


The Lost Boy

by Exaigon



Series: Frater [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Blood Rage, Blood and Gore, False Memories, Family, Magic, Recovered Memories, Reunion, Vampires, character illness, dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-06-23 19:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15613344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaigon/pseuds/Exaigon
Summary: It's time they got their brother back. Crossposted on FFnet





	1. Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. I obviously love you guys more than I hate myself... So here's the continuation. Just keep in mind the updates might be really slow because I'm working on five projects now. @.@

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, trying to control his breathing so he could regulate the pain he was feeling. It wasn’t normal his friends told him back in second year. Magic didn’t just act up and try to kill its owner around the same time every year.

But his did. Without fail. Ever since he was eight.

It burned sending rippling waves of pain through his limbs, much worse than the cruciatus. The pain curse targeted nerve endings. Magic was your very core, your soul.

Harry shrieked biting his lips all the way through as he spasmed, bending over, his head feeling as if an anvil had been dropped on it.

Then it subsided for a moment.

Merlin he was so glad this was happening at Grimmauld place where he could cast silencing and privacy wards. The end of July was always the worst of it even if the fevers and nausea that lasted the entire month of August weren’t all that pleasant either. Bloody hell this was the absolute worst he had been through so far. He was probably bordering on delirious right now…

Harry groaned and dropped his forehead into Sirius’ old mattress to try and cool some of the heat with the blankets. It did very little to help.

Why? Why did this always happen to him? Why couldn’t it be anyone else?

Another wave of pain rippled through him and at the end of it Harry felt like he was missing something. He felt bereft. Empty. A hollowed doll that had its insides scooped out.

Good to know his episode was finally coming to an end. At least the physical aspect anyways. Now came the mental. He would suffer the next week or two with nightmares of blood and the striking color of orange with an inner ring of red. His depression was always at an all time high around now as well which put his friends into a right tizzy the last two years but there was nothing they could do about it. Not even Madame Pomfrey had been able to figure out what was afflicting him.

Harry just accepted that he was and always would be abnormal. A freak.

“Harry you berk! Open the bloody door right now! This is the only other place you could be and, so help me, if you don’t open it I’m going to blast it down.”

The miserable wizard on the ground groaned, lifting his head from the bed vaguely noting how the blanket stuck to his forehead a moment due to his sweat. Hermione was already here? It’s a good thing his episode had started earlier this year and he was able to slip the bookworm to suffer in peace. Not that he disliked her company… she was just so overbearing when she was being a mother hen. And people always rubbed him wrong around this time too. As if they could never match up-

He sighed reaching out for his wand that lay by his foot.

* * *

 

“I don’t understand why you always push us away, Harry,” Hermione complained a week later.

“Look Hermione I l- y...you are amazing.” He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t even push the words out of his mouth right now. She wasn’t his sister but she _was_. “My very best friend in the whole wide world.”

“Stop buttering me up.”

“But you’re bossy and… canbeoverbearing.”

Hermione winced, playing with the ends of her and leaning back into the musty couch they were perched on. She pursed her lips a moment, opened her mouth and closed it, and then let out a gusty sigh.

“I’m just worried. We’re all worried. Whatever is happening to you is only getting worse and with the war still going on…”

Harry sighed, “I know. I just… It’s really hard for me right now. People… they just… grate on me. Like they’re all wrong. It’s hard to explain. But people just make things worse.”

Even right now he didn’t want to be with Hermione. She wasn’t right, her face too soft, too warm. She would be the perfect me-

“I feel… broken?”

The brunette witch turned with a frown her hands dropping to clench her red skirts. “You are not broken Harry James Potter!”

Harry snorted. He obviously was if he was suffering something unheard of in the wizarding world. It was also getting progressively worse. Other than the first episode when he was eight. The Dursleys and Harry were pretty sure he was going to die that July.

“Harry, Hermione! Dinner is ready,” Molly called from the kitchen.

Harry groaned burying his face in his hands. If his friends were bad the rest of the Oder was a whole nother level. Sometimes he had the strangest urge to wrap his jaws around their throats so they would shut up. Worst of all of them, though, was Dumbledore. He respected and trusted the Headmaster but whenever he got sick...It was almost like he wanted to murder the man in cold blood. It made Harry feel despicable. How could he want to hurt another person especially the Headmaster?

But he did. Oh how he did. He wanted to watch the twinkle in those eyes dull. Wanted to see blood and peeling flesh and orang-

Bad thoughts!

The wizard shook his head harshly. He really really hated this time of year.

“Harry you should eat in the room if you’re feeling that badly,” Hermione said sadly.

“Like Molly will let me,” he growled. “That woman- no she… ugh. We both know that she mother hens too much.”

It was even getting harder to keep his filter from brain to mouth active. Not that it usually worked but he focused on it a lot more around this time.

“Well if you mention your temperature surely! It spiked again this afternoon and you’re under so many cooling charms that you should be an ice cube right now.”

“Mione’s right mate.” They both glanced behind them to the door of the lounge. Ron was leaning against the doorway a frown on his freckled face. “Me and Ginny will talk to Mum for you. S’already bad enough what you’re going through. No need to make it worse by forcing people on you.”

“Thanks Ron,” Harry said relieved.

“No problem, mate. Might want to scarper now before she comes looking.”

The brunette did just that after carefully wishing his friends goodnight. He stopped in Sirius’ room, throwing himself on the bed and just giving into the darkness.

* * *

 

“Blimey Harry that’s a, uh, really rare steak,” Ron said eyeing the red juices the nice slab of meat was saturating in.

Harry laughed. “The bloodier the better!”

_Wrong_

“Are you smoking, Malfoy?”

“Shit! Pothead!?”

The blonde whirled around, fag hanging from his lips and silvery blue eyes wide. Harry hadn’t been expecting to find the rumpled Slytherin in the Astronomy tower on one of his late night strolls. The green eyed wizard studied the white cancer stick hanging from his rivals pale lips.

“Got any to share?”

_Wrong_

“Lord of the Rings is such a fantastic series isn’t it Harry? I’ve read all the history books too, like the Silmarillion. It might be a little dry for your tastes, I think, but it really does put so much more meaning into his most famous trilogy.”

Harry’s lips quirked up as he gazed at the well-worn book she was offering him.

“Thanks Hermione. I think I’ll check ‘em out.”

He needed to know everything about it.

_Wrong_

“You’re such a Freak! Those rat birds are disgusting. They should all have their necks broken!”

Harry stopped petting the pigeon he was nursing back to health so he could glare at his cousin. The mini whale was standing in the doorway to the brunette’s bedroom with a nasty smirk on his piggy lips that made the wizard wanted to retch. Instead he slowly, deliberately, pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the boy. Dudley ran squealing.

It was so worth the belting he got later.

_Wrong_

_It’s all wrong_

_Where is it_

He drank the glass greedily, the warmth spreading to his limbs leaving pleasant tingles in its wake.

_There_

_More_

“Welcome to the family, Little Brother.”

_Yes_

_This is it_

“Ouch! Oh! Oh no it’s okay! You just have to start at the bottom. Let me show you.”

_Please_

_Need it_

“Here. That’s it. Gently. They love when you give ‘em a little scratch right under the beak.”

_It hurts_

_Can’t stop_

“Dear child you are so brave. Why don’t you try petting him now?”

_It burned_

_It sliced_

_WHAT IS WRONG_

“Hell no, kid. Maybe you can try a cig when you’re older.”

_WHY_

_GIVE IT BACK_

_I NEED IT_

“Aw you ain’t gotta worry bout nothin’ little man. Whatever you want, I got more than enough money to spend!”

_YOU CAN'T HAVE IT_

_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE_

**EVERYTHING SHATTERED**

* * *

 

Harry woke screaming. Everything was burning. His magic greedily lashing out at anything that came near. It felt as if the very flesh was being melted from his bones, his nerves being scraped against a grater, his bones cracking and snapping the marrow spilling forth in liquid form.

It could have been seconds, it could have been years, but eventually there were voices calling. They rang around him discordantly their beat so very wrong. He wanted his bro-

For a brief moment there was an extra uninvited presence but it quickly recoiled leaving Harry to his suffering. Where were his bro-

He was terrified. As much as he could be around the all consuming pain. Was this how he died? Alone? Away from his bro- His friends and fam-

His head throbbed, heat spiking and dropping every moment. He was missing th- something. He needed it. It could save him. They would sa-

The voices screamed around him now all wrong and shoved into a place they shouldn’t be. His magic lashed out heeding its master’s wish to be rid of the _wrong_.

“Harry, my dear boy. We are only here to help. You must calm yourself!”

That voice cut straight through everything. His pain, his magic, his thoughts all paused. He knew that voice. The betrayer. The violator. It was his fault that Da-Harry was dying.

He burned and burned and burned until all that was left was cold.

* * *

 

“Harry are you sure you’re okay? You were thrashing a lot when I found you.”

Ginny’s freckles stood out in stark contrast to her pale skin, the red of her hair clashing horribly as well. She was sat, legs tucked under her, next to her brother on the bed across from Harry who was perched on the edge of the other bed hunched over slightly.

The wizard sighed, running his fingers through his matted hair with a grimace.

“I’m fine, Gin. I just had a nightmare I think. I don’t remember much.”

“Fine my arse! You look like shit mate,” Ron exclaimed shifting from his spot on the bed.

Not untrue. He’d seen himself in the mirror. His pallor was grey and sickly, the bags under his eyes the darkest he’d ever seen them. No to mention his hair was a disaster beyond what he thought it could ever be. It would probably be a good idea to get a haircut soon.

“It had to have been quite the nightmare to make your magic lash out and practically melt the room,” Hermione murmured thoughtfully. She was sitting at the small desk crammed into the corner of the room Ron and Harry used to share while she scribbled in a notebook.

“No offense but I’m glad you moved to his room to sleep.”

He couldn’t blame his friend. There was no telling what would have happened to Ron during his nightmare. He would have become foo-

“None taken.”

“Blimey though Harry, that was some magical damage. I really hope Dumbledore can figure out what’s wrong with you.”

“I doubt he’s even looking,” Harry grunted angrily.

“Harry,” Hermione squeaked scandalized.

“No, I think Harry’s right,” Ginny sniffed. “Dumbledore may be a good Headmaster but he’s much too focused on the war and after the Death Eater invasion last year he’s been going pretty bonkers. Great Headmaster, terrible person.”

Hermione gasped.

“I sorta agree I guess,” Ron muttered, ducking his head as his girlfriend turned her glare onto him. “Harry’s like the prophesized savior right? So why hasn’t he done more to help? Bloody hell the only good thing about Harry’s thing is You-Know-Who leaving him alone.”

“Ugh you all are insufferable. He’s the Headmaster-”

“Mione. Have you not learned that just because someone holds a title of authority does not mean they are good person?”

Harry felt none of the trust he normally had for the Headmaster. Something had happened with the man. He knew but somehow he couldn’t remember it. His thoughts whispered darkly and angrily. Harry was inclined to listen to them right now.

Hermione paused and stared at Harry before slowly closing her mouth and glancing back at her textbook. “I just… it’s Dumbledore. He’s the paragon of the light.”

“Hey Ron.”

“Yea Harry?”

“You’re really good with chess and strategy. To win the game what do you have to do?”

Ron blinked. “Well, you have to make sacrifices mate. Can’t win with all the pieces unless you’re opponent is a moron.”

“No,” Ginny gasped sitting up straight. Harry you don’t think- He wouldn’t!”

The brunette grit his teeth, hunching more and glaring at the slightly rooted wooden floor. “Have you ever heard him go on about the Greater Good? Because he does. All the time.”

“Wait wait Harry that can’t be right! He wouldn’t do something like that,” Hermione cried. She flew up out of her chair to start pacing in front of the door muttering furiously to herself.”

“Um, I’m slightly lost.”

Ginny reached out and whacked her brother on the head. “Use your brain cells idiot!”

“Ow! That bloody hurt!”

“Then stop being stupid!”

As those two bickered Harry allowed himself to drown in his negative thoughts. He was worthless to Dumbledore but at the same time the most valuable piece. He had to be because why else would the old man act the way he does? Completely ignoring him in sixth year and not even really trying to find a cure for his ‘disease’. He’d heard more theories and better solutions from Remus than he had from the dotty Headmaster.

Harry was also extremely protected. The supposed Savior of the Wizarding World was coddled, confined to this nasty house. No it wasn’t protection. It was more like being imprisoned. He didn't want to be here. Could actually think of several better solutions than being stuck here like staying in another country. Viktor would gladly host him. Even better he could be with his bro-

So that led Harry to thinking that he was a sacrifice. He had to be. There was no other reason for trying to pit a -just turned- seventeen year old boy against a Dark Lord that’s been around for longer than Harry and possibly even his parents had existed. He was expected to pull some miracle out of his arse and blast Voldemort into oblivion… or maybe he was supposed to be a martyr and the people’s love for him would actually get them to pull their collective heads out of the sand and actually fight.

He snorted softly.

Right love. More like reliance. They didn’t love Harry at all they just wanted him to be the one to save him even as they drag his name through the mud and call him crazy. He wished he could go back to Santa Car-

For some reason, beyond the obvious manipulator factor, Harry just couldn’t trust Dumbledore. And every time he told himself not to do what the old man said, fight it in fact, he would end up doing it anyway and fighting out of terrible situations. Then he would start trusting him because Dumbledore knew best right? Argh!

The door slammed open startling all of them. Harry was on his feet wand drawn with Ron and Ginny close behind and Hermione already had a spell dripping from the tip of her wand as she blocked the intruder’s path into the room.

It was the twins and they looked particularly upset.

“We have terrible-”

“Well, it might be wonderful-”

“Only for Harry, of course-”

“News,” they chorused.

“What happened,” Hermione asked as she sheepishly hid her wand back into a forearm holster. He wanted to scream at her to not do that. Don’t trust them. Constant vigilance!

But they were supposed to be safe here. It was only the twins. Nothing was wrong even if his magic roiled inside of him, scraping against the inside of his skin begging to be let out to it could fee-

“The Dursleys,” Fred and George grimaced.

“Found dead in their-”

“Home, they were.”

“Drained dry,” they finished together.

“What?” He couldn’t believe it. The Dursleys were dead. He wasn’t sure if he sure be worried about how pleased that made him… and drained dry?

“Was it Death Eaters,” Ron asked shakily.

Understandable considering they had only just picked him up right before his birthday and it had been less than two weeks since then.

“No.”

“No Dark Mark, at least.”

“The Order is pretty sure-”

“It was Vampires.”

Harry’s entire body shivered in pleasure, goose pimples raising along his flesh.

For some reason he’d always been fascinated with vampires even when he lived with the Dursleys. They felt… right?

Oh, but the meeting he’d had with Sanguini had been amazing. No wait. It had been pretty boring, hadn’t it? Except he had been so ecstatic… no it was interesting but not enough to remember. No wait…

Harry couldn’t help but stagger back as his head started pounding something awful. The twins noticed first as they were facing him. They made noises of concern catching everyone else’s attention.

“Harry!”

He had to go. He needed to see it. No, he had to stay here. Why? Because Dumbledore had ordered it? How was he going to be able to get out? Maybe it was the-

He keened high in his throat as his magic pulsed, lashing out and tossing his friends. Why was this happening? This part should already be over!

“I need to go,” he whimpered. “I need to go. _I need to go. Ineedtogo. Ineedtogo.”_

“Harry, mate,” Ron coughed as he peeled himself off the wall. He checked on his groaning sister before scooting forward off the bed they had landed on. “Where do you need to go? Mate, you gotta calm down. Talk to us.”

Fred and George helped Hermione off them out in the hallway. Harry couldn’t tell them. He had no words to. He just kept muttering the same words over and over, eyes wide and pleading.

“Didn’t think he would be this distraught,” Fred muttered to his twin. George agreed, setting the bookworm back on her feet so she could help her best friend.

“Harry. Harry, I’m going to touch you, okay? I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder,” Hermione said softly as she approached. He let her. Her hand was hot, hotter than himself, and he grimaced at it but did nothing other than keen again. “Harry do you need to see the Dursleys? It that where you need to go?”

“Yes,” he gasped pitifully. His hand clamped onto her wrist desperately. He needed her to understand. He. Needed. To. Go.

“Okay, Okay.” Her other hand she set softly on top of his own. “We can’t go anywhere if the adults come here right now here, Harry. Can you calm down, please?”

Harry bit his lip, scrunched his eyes shut, and sucked in a deep breath. He held it as long as he could before letting it out an repeating the process. He unclenched his hands, struggling to unlock them from his best friends wrist.

“I’m sorry. It’s hard,” he whispered. “It’s… I _need_ to be there. It physically hurts, Hermione. I need… I need…”

“We get it mate but don’t think we’re letting you go alone. When you rush into situations it usually doesn’t turn out well,” Ron sighed.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Ginny reassured. “We’re definitely going to help but we need to plan first.”

Harry normally would have told them no, absolutely not. Especially after what happened with the Department of Mysteries but right now he didn’t care. He would blast his way out of the gods be damned house if it would get him there. His friends were right, though. The Order wouldn’t let him do that so they would have to sneak out.

“We got your-”

“Back, mate.”

“Thanks,” he ground out. “I think I need… to sleep… right now. I can’t resist otherwise.”

“We’ll be right here trying to get a preliminary plan, alright?”

Harry sighed and dragged himself up onto the bed and crawled under the sparse covers. He was feverish again so he fell into an uneasy, much needed sleep.


	2. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get the hell out of dodge.

“Okay so we need a good plan," Hermione whispered running her fingers over the smooth grains of their table.

They never actually got around to that plan since they were too busy being worried about Harry himself.

They'd gone into the Library after Harry had woken and he once again avoided eating in the dining room like it was ground zero for the black plague. It was the best gathering spot that most of the Order wouldn't approach with all the Dark books in there. Molly always wanted to clean them out but she never actually started any ventures into doing so.

"Avoid the portrait."

"Obviously, Ron," Ginny snorted contemptuously.

"We could try the windows," the twins hummed thoughtfully.

"Already tried that," Ginny said with a shake of her head. "Any magic near the outside of the windows makes the Order come running. What? I was bored and going stir crazy."

Harry sighed. That was going to be his idea too but Grimmauld was too smooth to scale down its sides and there were no windows on the first floor. Jumping from the second was an option but one that risked injuries if anyone landed wrong. Then they would be vulnerable pre-

The green eye wizard dropped his head onto his folded arms being careful of his glasses. Hermione poked him in the ribs and he grunted at her. With a sigh and some herculean effort he was able to lift his head again. He looked to Ron who sat at his right and Ginny who was across from him. Hermione was to his left and Fred and George were each leaning against a bookcase facing their little square table. They were so soft and full of bloo-

"If we can't use the windows the only option is the front door but who knows if they've got a proximity ward," he muttered.

He still felt like shite. Especially because he had to keep careful control of his magic so it didn't lash out again. He was lucky there was no injuries earlier. They could have been kil-

Not to mention that insistent need was still pounding in the back of his head giving him the worst migraine he'd suffered yet. It's why Fred had offered one of their testing products called Blackout Glasses. They looked like muggle sunglasses but they completely blocked any form of light getting to your eyes rendering you blind. They were supposed to stick to the victim's head for a full twenty four hours unless the counter curse was used but the twins had modified his to have something akin to nightvision. Which was actually pretty awesome.

"That's true. I don't think any of us here are skilled enough to remove Dumbledore's wards without alerting him," Hermione sighed.

"I'm so proud of you, Mione," Ron sniffed wiping away a fake tear. "You actually admit you can't do everything."

"Oh, stuff it you berk."

The twins giggled, along with Ginny, at the familiar banter between the couple.

"You guys are terrible at staying quiet."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry! How's your head?"

Oh good back to whispering. At least that didn't feel like a drill trying to rip his brain open.

"It's fine, Hermione. Can we please get on with the planning," he grumbled.

"Well, the windows-"

"Are probably still-"

"Our best bet," George finished.

"We'll just bust out the muggle way."

The grin that crossed their freckled faces was downright mischievous.

Ginny raised a brow and turned to look at them, her arm resting on the back of the chair as she twisted around to stare at them. "What are you two talking about."

"Rope made-"

"From muggle sheets!"

"It's not like we don't have enough of it here."

That's true. Could everyone hold themselves up, though? Could he at this point in time?

"Oh yea! I remember Dad going on about that once," Ron chuckled. "It's probably the best we're gonna get without any form of magic."

Hermione bit her thumb thoughtfully. "We'll want to go out of the higher floors just in case. The lower the floor the more wards are probably on the windows. Which means more sheets."

"Alright so we've got the tentative breakout plan. Now we need provisions and supplies!"

"What do you think this is," Harry harrumphed, "some sort of muggle spy movie?"

"Exactly," Ginny grinned in excitement. "We're breaking out of prison right now and have to sneak our way to the scene of the crime!"

Harry normally would have shared her excitement but he only felt his head throb. Nothing seemed right and it was irritating and tiresome. He just wanted the wrong to stop.

"Um, I think you're getting your genres mixed, Ginny," Hermione giggled.

"Definitely need our wands. Constant vigilance and all that rot," Ron chortled at his sister's flushed face. "But to get around we'll need some muggle money. Hermione you know more about getting around in the muggle world so we should leave that to you. Fred, George, we could probably use some of your prank items. Grab us some useful ones? And Ginny you deal best with Mum. See if she'll get us some food packed for later. Actually, how long are we planning to stay out?"

Everyone hesitated, glancing at Harry and he glared back at them. "How should I know," he snapped. Then bit his lip. Damn, he hadn't meant to do that. "Sorry, sorry. I don't know… I just…"

"Hm. I have the feeling that if we leave now the Order is gonna have quite the stick up their arse about it. I don't really feel all that inclined to come back anytime soon," Ginny said fidgeting in her chair throwing furtive glances at him. He caught her gaze and she gave him a small pretty smile when he nodded his gratitude.

"Yea they'll be right buggered they will. All the youngest 'members' taking off in the middle of the night. Specially our Ginny," Fred said with a distinguished nod.

"She's not even of age. That'll just tickle Mum pink," George agreed.

"And Harry only just came of age, come off it," the ginger scolded her brothers. "I can take care of myself!"

"Oh, we know, Ginny. But the twins bring up a good point. The trace on your wand hasn't dissolved which means you can't use magic without the Ministry tracking you."

"I doubt any of us can," Harry muttered darkly.

He had the feeling that it wasn't the Ministry they'd need to worry about, though.

They stared at him again and he growled as his muscled decided now would be a great time to throb alongside his head. He just wanted to drain the-

"Look. I trust the Order as far as I can throw them and I can't even physically pick them all up. I can guess that they'll be wanting to know where we are at all times and what's the easiest way to do that? Our wands. It might not be the Ministry but I bet they'll still be able to track us if we use magic."

"Wow… that's pretty dark Harry… Do you really think they would?" Ron's face was ashen as he thought over the implications.

"Maybe not for you guys," he conceded. "But me…?"

"Maybe this isn't the best idea th-"

"I am going," Harry cut off his best friend, side eyeing her. "I'd rather you not but after the DoM we all know you will."

The brunette huffed out out a breath. "Alright so the muggle way it is. Oh, this is not going to be fun at all."

"Do ya think someone should stay to distract the Order?"

"Not if we sneak out tonight. Most everyone should be asleep and Mum only checks on us once. After that we'll be free," Ginny cheered.

"There's no meetings-"

"Tonight either. We-"

"Double checked."

"Perfect." Harry grinned with just a bit a too much teeth.

From there the plan was underway. Hermione would have rather they waited a day but Harry was much too sick and desperate to leave. His part was the easiest. Go to sleep or act if he couldn't. Ron was the one gathering and tying the sheets in all the rooms. Hermione was planning their muggle route and clothing. Ginny was plying Molly for late night snacks and George and Fred were picking which prank items to bring.

He shivered in anticipation.

Nearly an hour later Ron came back with a shrunken pile of sheets wrapped around his wrist to look like a funny bracelet. Hermione checked in with them, announcing her tentative plan to use a payphone to call a cab. The only problem was only three people could fit. They'd need two cabs. Instead, she thought it would be better to have the twins and Ginny set up a safe place for them so they would have somewhere to go in the 'off-chance' they didn't come back to the the Order.

~~_ He wasn't coming back. _ ~~

Harry instantly agreed. Ron was more hesitant but he still caved in the end. The youngest male Weasley didn't like being cooped up and kept ignorant either.

Ginny came back a few minutes later dumping a few boxes on Ron with the order to find a bag to carry it since it probably wasn't the best idea to shrink them if they couldn't undo it later. Hermione, always prepared as she was, pulled a backpack from the small leather necklace she'd been wearing. Everyone gaped at her as she explained about the mokeskin pouch and the endless space charms on it.

The twins came and dropped two leather satchels under the bed, George being infinitely careful with his, and told them to keep watch.

Within the next hour everyone was separated to their rooms, Harry staying with Ron since he was supposed to have been asleep this entire time. Molly checked in on them, giving a small smile at Ron's loud fake -though they didn't sound it- snores before she shut the door again.

"Wow. I didn't think she'd believe that," Ron chuckled.

"You do know that's what you actually sound like right?"

"What!? I do not!"

"Ron," Harry rubbed his eyes, exhausted and jittery, and stuck his glasses back on before pulling the sunglasses out from under his pillow and putting those on too. "I've lived in a dorm with you for seven years. I know exactly what your motormouth sounds like. It was so spot on I almost thought you'd fallen asleep."

"I've been betrayed by my best mate," Ron wailed quietly.

"Oh, bugger off."

There was soft knock on the door before Ginny let herself in followed by Hermione. A few minutes later the twins arrived and gathered their bags.

"Are we all ready?"

Everyone nodded at the bookworm gazes filled with determination. He had the best of friends. His brothers were bett-

Climbing down the fifth story window - because the Blacks couldn't build out in this area so they built up- in his condition was not an easy feat at all. Ron had gone first, struggling a bit in the beginning while they all watched apprehensively. Eventually, he figured out how to use his arms and legs in conjunction to shimmy to the ground. He gave a thumbs up for the signal as soon as he was clear.

Harry wanted to go next. He needed to get out. He was running out of time, he could feel it.

Climbing was possibly the worst mistake he could have possibly made. His muscles clenched and spasmed trying to hold his admittedly meager weight, almost sending him sprawling to the cement below. He took a tremulous breath, burning his lungs in a cloud of pain, as sweat started slipping into his eyes. His friends were whispering something, probably encouragement, but their voices were near silent next to the pounding of his heart vibrating in his ears.

The air scraped up his lungs and throat like rusted nails as he exhaled. His fingers were cramping with how tight they clutched the off white sheet in front of him. His vision was fading, black spots growing larger every passing second and everything tilted suddenly to the left.

Was this how he died then? It was a mistake. He wanted his bro-

He was supposed to live fore-

Harry gasped in a sharp breath, fingers spasming in shock, inhaling some water in the process which sent him sputtering and coughing.

"Harry are you okay," Ginny called in a yelled whisper.

Oh, he could hear again. He could breathe again.

The wizard glanced up spotting the empty glass the ginger witch had clutched in her fingers, half hanging out of the window. How long had he been out of it? Actually was he lower than before?

"I-" He rasped, pausing so he could swallow torturously. "I'm fine. I can do it."

He looked down at Ron, blinking as the ground swayed beneath him. What was wrong with him?

Muscles spasms were a pain in the arse but Harry was able to manage going down three more floors before his body decided it had had enough. Horror ate at him as his hands unclenched and his arms gave out.

"Shit!"

There was pain on impact but not as much as he'd thought there'd be. Maybe it had something to do with the groaning Weasley beneath him?

"Ron? Ron, are you okay?"

"Bloody hell mate. You are bloody lucky that you're light. Now geroff!"

Harry rolled sideways, landing on the blessedly cool concrete where he sprawled out trying to get as much skin contact with the ground. It felt so good, in lieu of the now missing cooling charms they couldn't risk, that goose pimples were breaking out on his arms.

"Sorry," he mumbled into the ground. "Are you hurt?

Ron huffed beside him and sat up leaving Harry's view. "It's fine. I'm fine."

A few minutes later and the soft sound of the last person's feet hit the ground. Harry almost felt reluctant to leave with how much he was enjoying the cool feeling beneath his cheek. Still, he had somewhere to be. He sighed and shifted his arms beneath him to get up.

Fred and George assisted him a moment later.

"You alright, mate?"

"That was quite the tumble."

"I'm sure ickle Ronniekins-"

"Won't be forgetting anytime soon."

"This way," Hermione urged, making sure everyone in the group was together. He glanced back at the hanging sheets. Nothing they could do about removing it without magic so they were left dangling and swaying.

A moment later, Harry shuddered as he crossed the ward line. It felt like someone had dropped chilled water on him -oh wait thanks Ginny- but he shook it off as best he could.

They walked quickly and quietly, Harry leaning on Ron for support as he stumbled a few more times than he could easily brush off, a few blocks down until they were entering a more business like area. The houses stayed behind them as they crossed the street warily. A red phone booth stood out starkly under a streetlight a few meters away and they made a beeline for it.

Hermione dumped a few coins into the slot and waited for the operator to answer. She chattered quietly to the person on the other line, going silent only for a minute before she spoke again requesting a cab. Everyone else huddled and stared around suspiciously waiting for the Order to appear out nowhere. Harry especially. His 'Potter Luck' as it was jokingly called could ruin everything. It usually ruined everything.

But this… this could not be ruined for him. He needed this to happen. He felt like he would die if it didn't.

"They estimate about ten minutes," Hermione said as she walked over to the group.

"So long," Ron complained.

"Hush. They don't have very many drivers out at this time of night. Not in this area. We should get out of the light, though, just in case."

Harry made his way closer to the building, away from the streetlight, and slumped against the wall. The cool night air brushed against his face in soft breezes. The darkness was something comforting, an old friend that wrapped chilled fingers around his shoulders. Just like vam-

"Ginny, do you remember the plan?"

"Yea. Best thing right now is a hotel room somewhere cheap, that one you mentioned in Woking as it's far enough away from Privet Drive it'll take a bit to get there. Don't worry, we'll have something set for you when you're done. I am still curious about you having all this muggle money, though."

Hermione blushed high on her cheeks her hands coming up to wave in front of her face as if to ward off their stares. She stammered, "Well I might have… made it?"

"You transfigured it," Fred and George asked looking impressed.

Her blush deepened and her whole stance shifted side to side. "No… I-I well, I figured enough to help us wouldn't hurt! I just want Harry to get better and if this helps-!"

Ginny laughed uproariously before covering her mouth to try and stifle the sound.

"You conjured it," Harry accused with a smirk.

"Didn't you say something about that being bad for the economy back in fifth year?" Ron had a shit-eating grin on his face as his girlfriend swatted his arm, her face near boiling red.

Harry just enjoyed the freedom of the night, the cool air outside of the stifling house his Godfather had gifted to him.

He frowned thoughtfully. His godfather had bequeathed Grimmauld Place to him in his Will (that he never got to hear and that still rankled him). So… he owned it right? Why hadn't he just kicked out the Order? Ginny laughed again and Harry relaxed. That's right it was a safe-haven for them as well, not just the annoying useless birds.

But still he hated it when Molly moved about the place as if she owned it. Or when Dumbledore would walk into the kitchen and the sudden hush that followed in his wake as if he were the uncontested king. One day he was going to do something about that. One day when it wouldn't be putting people into danger… No. No. The Order could handle themselves. His friends could stay, obviously, but everyone else had to go. They didn't deserve a safe haven.

They didn't deserve Harry at all, actually. Only his bro-

In fact they could all go rot in the deepest pits of Hell as far as he was concerned.

Why was he thinking about this again?

Oh. Right. His godfather. Who went absolutely bat shit in that musty place, trapped again like in Azkaban. Kreacher also didn't help, the filthy beast. Normally he had more compassion but that house elf was a piece of work that deserved no sympathy.

He snorted bitterly, attracting Fred's attention.

"You okay there, Harry?"

"Just… bad thoughts I probably shouldn't be…. No. No. That's not what I wanna say."

What the hell. Why couldn't he just keep himself together? His thoughts and words kept see-sawing like they did when it came to Dumb...le...d...ore. Oh. OH.

Harry was gonna kill him. He was going to tea-

He didn't care if it got him thrown in jail. Somehow, someway that man was messing with his head!

"Harry, mate?"

They were all looking at him in worry now. Ron being the closest, his hand hovering just above his shoulder but not touching. Asking permission. The brunette jerked his shoulder away, into the brick of the painted white wall, not in the mood. The Weasley backed off with a wry smile.

"Something is wrong with me."

Ron snorted, "We all know that."

"No, Ron," Harry grit out forcefully. "I'm not talking about my magic. I'm talking about my he-"

The sudden onset of dizziness almost brought him to his knees as his gut lurched in protest. The heat of his face wafted from his pores and his head throbbed. His ears were buzzing and his magic was rousing, starting to lash around him angrily.

"Whoah!"

"Harry! Oh, Harry, you can control it! You need too!"

"Bad timing-"

"Cab is pulling around the corner."

Something was  _ wrong. _

* * *

 

Ginny was quick to lash him in the back of the neck. She'd seen it once in a muggle cinema when she'd snuck out about a year ago with Luna. It seemed to work well enough if Harry dropping like a stone was any indication. She could still taste the oppressive aura of his magic  _ shattered, chained, and sharp  _ as it slowly retreated. It was just like when she'd walked in on him during a night terror, his piercing screams caught by his silencing ward. She'd run to her mother absolutely terrified for her friend and Dumbledore just happened to be there. He told he would take care of it. Lying bastard.

She let out a sigh of relief. If he'd had an episode here in the middle of a muggle street, not only would it bring the Order straight to them but the Ministry as well. Considering that You-Know-Who was leading behind the scenes… well that might've been a bit bad.

She was also lucky she'd been quick enough his magic hadn't retaliated.

"Well, that should keep him out for a while. I hope this trip really does help…"

"How did you know how to do that Gin?" All three of her brothers looked flabbergasted.

"I'm just awesome," she replied flipping her hair over her shoulder with a smirk.

"Right, well, as wonderful as you are, Gin, we're on a time constraint unfortunately," Hermione piped in as she stared at the cab that had just pulled up to the curb. "You have the coins I gave you for your own call right? You remember what to say?"

"Course I do," she scowled. "I'm not like these dunderheads."

She gestured to all of them and they protested, sans Harry who was out cold in Ron's arms.

"Be careful you three," she whispered sadly, beckoning Ron and his 'luggage' towards the cab.

"Aren't we-"

"Always?"

Ginny let her smile drop as she turned to the twins as soon as the yellow car had pulled away.

"I have a feeling we're going to be at odds with the Order soon enough."

"Not to worry, Gin," Fred said seriously one hand coming to rest on her left shoulder.

"We have a few contacts that'll help us once we have the time to notify them," George added dropping a gentle hand on her right shoulder.

"Heh. How could I ever doubt you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! Things are only getting worse :D You can thank my roommate for any dark path this goes down. I asked him slightly happy or dark and gory. You can guess what he chose... Any way I don't have any actual plot for this, just certain story points that need to be hit so... this can go any which way!
> 
> Also we get to see the awesome that is book Ginny~
> 
> Thank you all for your support! Drop a review so I can know what you think. :)


	3. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expounding thoughts and the final destination.

Fred nudged his brother as Ginny purchased a room for them. The ride had been quiet mostly, none of them trying to talk to each other. Ginny did thank the driver and drop some muggle money to the man. She told him to keep the change and he looked more than delighted, meaning it was probably a generous tip. Fred almost felt bad. He hoped the bloke spent the money before it disappeared on him.

George nudged him back, his eyes serious as they followed their young spit-fire of a sister upstairs to their room.

“Ginny we need to talk.”

She glanced back, her hair fluttering with the movement. She smirked back at them stopping at green door with a metal room number 212 screwed onto it.

“Course we do,” she scoffed sticking the key in and manhandling it a bit before it opened. “Come on.”

They shut the door being sure to lock it. Fred felt his fingers twitch towards his wand even though he knew they shouldn’t be using any magic just in case. George did the same.

Ginny plopped on the bed after dropping her small handheld bag on the faded desk in the corner of the room. She patted both sides of her and they took no time at all to perch on the edge of the bed.

“We think we’ll be better off in the Wizarding World and with our shop almost finished with reconstruction...” George trailed off tapping above his missing ear.

Fred picked it back up like they’d done since they were children. “And it will be easier to still have eyes on the inside.”

She frowned thoughtfully, her fingers tapping her chin. “While that’s true that would put you guys at great risk.”

Fred snorted just as bitterly as his brother.

“Dear lovely, wonderful-” he started.

“Little sister, everyone is in danger,” George finished.

“We think you and precious Ronniekins will be in even more danger without knowing Order  _ and  _ Death Eater movements.”

“We can get you that. It’s not like they’ll suspect us if we tell them we went to our shop early in the morning to check on it.”

“We’ve done it before. We didn’t think to check on the kiddies,” Fred agreed scratching at his nose.

“Besides all our contacts are Muggleborns. They’ll want information-”

“More than money-”

“For any favor we might ask.”

“Equal exchange,” George sighed.

“Tsk. You two are terrible, you know that,” she huffed. Her arms crossed in front of her chest and her chin tilted down in thought. “Fine. You guys are crazy good duelers when it comes down to it and information is key to success if we want to pull this off. But you better tell me what all the pranks you brought are!”

Fred placed a hand over his heart as if offended. Like they would do anything other than that. They wanted their little sister, all of their family actually, alive, thank you very much.

“How is your shop, by the way?”

George was a wonderful mirror when he wanted to know what his features looked like. The grimace pulled their lips flat and scrunched their noses enough they were squinting. It was almost, but not quite, the expression Fred knew they both wore when they smelt something rotten.

The attack on their shop had come as a surprise. It wasn’t just Diagon Alley, no. That would have been better actually. The Death Eaters had specifically targeted their shop because of their connection to the Order. George took offense to this and started raining joke products and deadly spells on their ugly mugs. Fred took it upon himself to start evacuating people to the back of the shop to the Floo. There may have been anti-apparition wards up but Floo Networks had to be specifically blocked. They were a neat loophole in an evacuation especially considering theirs was technically illegal and unknown. Props for breaking the law.

Then Fred joined his vengeful brother in wiping out the five or so enemies left.

It had been much too easy of a fight. There were no big name spooks there, only -probably- newbies. Which had been a little insulting to be honest.

What was worse was not the damage done to the shop, which Harry helped fund despite their protests; it was the damage done to the morale of the parents and kids in their shop. They’d successfully defended their shop but that it had even been attacked in the first place was cause enough for people to be wary about going again. Which was a complete shame because Fred and George were all about making people laugh.  Now they couldn’t do that as easily (and subtly rub it in the Death Munchers collective faces).

It would probably give them time to fine tune more of their war-oriented products, at least. Then they could send ‘care packages’ to the mini rebel group.

Even if they wouldn’t get to see them in use, Fred knew the chaos that would be sowed would still be well worth it.

“Getting better. A week or two more will be enough to remove the dark magic lingering around and rewire some more hidden traps.”

George grinned maliciously, the expression growing on Fred’s face as well.

Ginny smirked between them.

* * *

 

Hermione fidgeted in her seat combing through the multiple possibilities this entire trip could bring. She only had a few that actually seemed plausible.

  1. The Order would track them down.
  2. Death Eaters somehow found them while they were out.
  3. They never went back to the Order and ran from both sides successfully.
  4. Harry would get better or worse depending on the entire reason he’d asked, pleaded really, to come.



The first one made her gut twist with apprehension. Harry was in the right when he’d chided her earlier. It was stupid of her to trust based on authoritarian position alone. But it was Dumbledore… the Leader of the Light and the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Where they’d run into quite a few situations that probably could have been solved with competent adults actually. So maybe there  _ were _ a few points against him but who else were they supposed to turn to?

Even she could admit that they would be put under security if they were found by the Order. Hermione had the feeling that Harry might actually die if that were to happen.

Well, if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that her friends came first. Always.

The second option she avoided all thought of. The absolutely inhumane torture that could be done... She wasn’t naive. She just preferred not to read various methods of torture that Death Eaters preferred to employ. She didn’t need gory mental images, thank you very much.

The third option… would pit them against both sides of the war. Just like the Neutrals of the past war that were being targeted and forced to choose this time around, they would all be hunted with no safe place to go. Unless they fled the country but that was inadvisable with Harry’s deteriorating condition. Thinking about the logistics and the planning necessary was already giving her a headache. 

The fourth was sort of making her nauseous and on top of all her already existing symptoms, Hermione felt she might sick up sometime soon. 

She wanted to ask why he so desperately needed to go but the look in his eyes then had been nothing short of his breaking point. She feared if she’d said anything but yes, Harry might actually be lost to them. She really hoped he wasn’t going because of grief of his supposed family. It was a tragedy that human life was lost but if there were any that deserved it, that was probably the family she’d pick. 

Harry had told her Dudley had been much friendlier which was not a helpful thought. She pushed it to the side. 

Still, she was not blind to the abuse he’d suffered and she’d mostly certainly told Dumbl-

But it was Harry’s own business so she would wait for him to tell her so she could report it to the correct authorities. She didn’t want to break his trust like that and go behind his back. Even if it was for his own good like McGonagall had told her gent-

She sucked in a sharp breath as her stomach lurched dangerously from her stress.

“You alright, Mione?” Ron whispered glancing at her.

Whatever had she done for this wonderful -totally pigheaded and annoying but wonderful all the same- man?

* * *

 

Ron couldn’t help but worry over his best mate and his girl. One was already dangerously sick and even getting worse and the other was just making herself ill with worry.

He knew why she was doing it, of course. Ron was too on some level. Maybe he wasn’t planning step by step to-do lists for every possible scenario he could see racing in her chocolate brown eyes but he wasn’t a Chess Master for nothing. Strategy and planning was what he did best.

It actually made him pretty proud when he’d given out orders earlier and everyone listened without hesitation. Normally it was Harry that could control a room and give out orders with ease. Not that the bloke normally wanted too. It had taken him a while, most of sixth year, to work on his jealousy and anger management to realize that. It had been detrimental to their friendship in fourth year and he was so, so thankful that Harry had such a forgiving heart. Ron certainly wouldn't have welcomed himself back. 

So he tried in fifth year to work on it but it got pushed to the wayside by Umbitch and then co-commanding the DA. That had been an eye opener to his own worth as well as becoming the Keeper for the Quidditch team on his own merit -even if Harry had tricked him into thinking otherwise-. His ego had been given the boost it needed to kickstart his own self-evaluation.

So sixth year was spent working on his jealousy while Harry wandered off after Malfoy claiming the Ferret was plotting nefarious things even against evidence that said otherwise. Turned out Harry had been right and a Death Eater invasion was stopped in its tracks. 

Ron didn’t exactly know when he noticed it but as he was reviewing his interactions and memories he saw how Harry didn’t like the spotlight, at all. He even dumbed himself down in class to avoid it which was unfortunate. The ginger haired wizard really wished he could have gone back in time and smacked his younger self and Harry’s from fourth year for being such dimwits. It still made his heart race thinking about how close he’d come to losing the best friendship he’d ever had… and the best girlfriend because he knew without a doubt Hermione would have snubbed him and followed Harry had the green eyed wizard rejected their three year old bond.

So, yea, he was lucky and he knew it. That just meant that he would accept his friends like the gifts they were and fight with everything he had to keep them safe. If that meant abandoning the Order and forging their own path, then so be it. He just really wished he knew a bit more about the muggle world so he could make more detailed plans for the future.

* * *

 

Harry awoke with a groan, his neck protesting the sharp pain when he tried to move it.

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned.

“Harry language,” Hermione scolded before apologizing to the driver. “I’m so sorry, he’s just had a rough go at the pub tonight. He somehow ended up at my place and we thought it best to make sure he made it home.”

“Aye lass! No need ta worry ya head. I’ve heard loads worse than tha’. Yer a good friend, aye?”

The voice was rough but cheery and just loud enough to bring his headache to full force. Ugh, where were his glasses? He groped around until he found Ron’s knee and dug his nails in.

“Ouch!”

“My glasses you bastard,” he rasped pitifully.

“You don’t have to skewer my knee! Blimey! Here. We just didn’t want them falling off when we put you in the cab.”

Harry sighed blissfully as his migraine eased a bit with the blanket of darkness.

“Ooo tha’ bad, huh, lad,” the driver whispered sympathetically. Harry was able to catch brown eyes glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Not ta worry. We’re almost there.”

The driver had been right. Less than a minute of waiting and they were pulling to a stop, the motion almost making him violently ill. Harry swallowed it down and placed a damp hand on his forehead. Merlin, even to himself he was burning up.

The car door opened and Hermione scooched out, carefully laying his feet on the seat, so she could swoop around to the other side and open the door for Ron.

“Come on. The faster we get there the better.”

“Right. Uh… please don’t puke on me mate.”

Harry grunted. “No promises.”

Ron slid out, gently laying his head down on the grossly warm seat.

“Harry,” Hermione paused the silence dragging on for a few seconds. “Do you… think you can get out yourself?”

Ugh. Moving in general right now was probably one of the worst ideas he could do but…

“I’m fine.”

He pushed himself up slowly, his arms trembling beneath him. The driver was watching him in the rearview which made the wizard want to punch him but he focused his irritation on making his limbs cooperate. First were the legs. They slid to the floor of the cab with a thump and he twisted his body to be sitting upright, ignoring the burning of bile climbing his throat. Slowly, he inched over to the open door, leaning heavily on the back seat and pausing to pant every few seconds. The spinning of the world around him wasn’t making matters any easier.

He just needed to get out. He could do it. He was almost there.

A pale hand appeared in front of him and he blinked at it his neck craning, spike of pain lancing down his back, to look at the man outside. The red hair wasn’t as visible in the dark, appearing more brown and for a moment there was another face there. Orange eyes, sharp angles.

“C’mon mate. I’m here for you,” he spoke.

That wasn’t right. He blinked and he was staring at freckles and pasty white skin.

He let out a small breath reaching out a hand to accept Ron’s hand. He was carefully pulled out, nearly puking  _ again, _ until he was standing on his own two legs. Barely.

“C’mon Harry, it’s just the street over. I’ll pay the cab and you and Ron can start walking,” Hermione whispered gazing at him worriedly.

“Wait… where did you have him drop us?”

“On the corner of Magnolia lane and Wisteria Walk.”

Harry nodded, almost tipping forward at the action. He grabbed Ron’s offered arm in a vice grip even if it stung his pride to do so. He hated being so useless. Fuck his magic and his body for betraying him like this.

“It’s this way,” he muttered taking faltering steps towards Privet Drive.

The journey -for what else could it be called with so many perilous obstacles?  _ Yes, the cracks in the sidewalk were dangerous _ \- to Number 4 Privet Drive took a lot longer than he was comfortable suffering. This walk was hitting emotional, physical, and mental challenges that he never thought he’d have to face. 

He would zone out every few steps, almost topple over every other, and his feet just would not go where he was trying to put them. Or where he thought he was trying to put them. Considering his mind was compromised it was hard to tell exactly what was going on. The only thing that kept him moving was Hermione and Ron’s encouraging whispers in his ears. And possibly being too stubborn. 

He was not riding piggyback. Only  _ they _ could do that with him. 

There right in front of them was their objective.

~~_ He missed them. He wanted his brothers back. _ ~~

Finally. Finally they were there standing in front of the house he grew up in.

It was eerily silent, the street light a few meters away casting shadows that seemed to flit about every time he tried to look at them. His head buzzed pleasantly.

He took a few steps.

~~_ They were here! _ ~~

His magic bubbled, airy and light, before popping and returning to him every few moments. He took a few more steps, his stance more solid and sure. Almost predatory.

He was almost to the front door but even from here he could taste the metallic odour of spilled blood.

_ He was so thirsty after all this time. _

His hand was on the doorknob and there were voices speaking to him but he couldn’t hear them. He was where he needed to be. This was it. He’d found the mi- mi-  _ missing piece _ !

~~_ Where are they? _ ~~

The odour that wafted from the door was nothing short of de- wo- temp-  _ He wanted it! _

Stepping into it was like taking a dip into pure euphoria.

There were hands on his shoulders, holding him back. He snarled and tossed them off. He could see rusted brown flaking from the walls and he ran his fingers over it. 

~~_ Old but it would do. _ ~~

He ran his tongue over the pads of his fingers.

Shivers raced up his spine.

His magic  **_shattered_ ** .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha. Whoops. That's a nice cliffhanger.
> 
> Did ya like it? Tell me what you think!


	4. Turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is having issues, Ron is having a terrible night, and Harry's just a bit insensate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning for a tad bit of gore and Ron's stress language.

Hermione's head was ringing. Vaguely, she could feel a heat lancing up her legs. She glanced left, then right, trying to blink away the blurry spots that was hindering her vision. Everything was dark and the tiny sliver of light was too far to illuminate much. The ringing wasn't stopping.

She grunted… or maybe she didn't? Everything was drowned out by that blasted ringing.

Something warm dripped into her eye, stinging and blinding. She tried to wipe it away. Even if her vision was blurry… she didn't need anything else making it worse.

Oh Merlin… Oh God…

Her hand came away drenched in warmth.

Was it blood? It had to be. And that ringing… she hit her head.

What had happened? Everything had been fine.

Harry had…

No. no. no.  _nonononononono_ …

"H-harry," she whimpered. "Harry? Ron?"

Everything was settling now; the dust, the pain, her thoughts. It was crashing down on her shoulders, constricting her lungs, burning her legs.

The witch grimaced. Trying to move with her equilibrium messed up was difficult. Her hands wouldn't go where she wanted and her legs just wouldn't move at all. Her heart was jack rabbiting in her chest feeling only a moment away from bursting. Now that she was more aware, the pain was becoming unbearable; her adrenaline was settling. The pounding in her head was distorting the -finally- fading ringing but also making it hard to focus. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball.

Everything was wrong. What had happened?

She needed to find Ron. To find Harry.

She shifted, her arms shaking under only her upper body weight. Her legs still weren't responding.

"Ron? Harry?" Her voice was painfully raspy. Probably the fault of the dust.

Something shifted to her right followed by a muffled moan.

"Ron! Harry!"

She dug her nails into the carpet pushing herself up straight. Her back brushed something behind her. She glanced back cautiously, still trying to blink back her focus.

Oh no. No wonder her leg wouldn't move.

She gagged and looked away, unable to stand the gory sight. And that was with barely any visibility too. She most certainly didn't want to see what it looked like with light.

"M-mione?"

It was weak but it was the best thing she'd heard since she woke up.

"Ron," the witch cried in relief. "Ron, are you okay? C-can you move? Are you hurt?"

"I think… I'm okay. Just a walking bruise, is all."

There was more shifting to her right and suddenly a beam of light from outside shined directly onto her boyfriend's face. He winced, squinting at the source for a moment before he continued over to Hermione.

"Where are you, babe?"

"About a yard in front of you… I can't move. M-my legs…"

"Shit. Bloody fuck. I can't really see and -Ouch!"

Ron's form, backlit now, paused and hunched over. There was a frustrated grunt before he was moving again.

"Are you okay?"

"Yea. Just walked into something sharp. There's a lot of rubbish over here and it all seems to want my blood or something."

Hermione flinched at the groping hands on her face. She smacked them away before they could scratch her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry. I'd cast Lumos but-"

Hermione sighed. If they didn't do magic her legs were absolutely unsalvageable without the hospital. She was just going to have to… Well, if it was only one of them it should be fine, right? Then there would only be her magical signature to lock onto. If they could even find it through the cloud of Harry's own.

"It's fine, Ron. I-I'll cast it. We just need to hurry, okay? Someone should be coming soon after-after…."

"Yea, can you stand?"

The slightly calloused hands moved to her shoulder and Hermione had to stop him from helping her up.

"I can't. Not right... Just…"

"Hermione, are you okay," Ron said slowly making sure to enunciate.

She giggled uncomfortable. "I will be. Just, help me out okay?"

"You know I will."

She sighed in relief. One problem down, only a million more to worry about.

Her wand was thankfully still tucked away in the mokeskin pouch and with Ron helping to keep her balanced upright she was able to grab it with only a little difficulty; that being her head not cooperating with her limbs.

The familiar warmth of the wood felt good, soothing some of the minor aches she'd barely noticed.

"Lumos Adfigo."

A light gathered on the tip of her vine wood wand. Tapping it against the half crumbled wall, it stuck in place leaving her free for other spells.

Now that there was a light it was easier to see the absolute mess that was the hallway. Walls were half crumbled, letting light in from the outside or showcasing plaster and wood. The brown door was crumpled in and splintered half a yard behind her with a large section of ceiling laying across it. Ron had come from the direction of the living room, the entryway only half there.

In front of her, the youngest Weasley son crouched, pale and wide eyed as he stared at Hermione's legs. His freckles stood out unflatteringly against the pasty pallor of his skin. There were scratches here and there, his shirt a little torn, but otherwise he seemed mostly unharmed which was a blessing.

"M-Mione… y-y-you're legs," he choked. His hands trembled on her arms, fingers clutching desperately as if it would save her from the wounds.

"I know," she huffed despairingly. "This is why I need your help. Ron? Ron, I need you to listen, okay? Can you pull my ankle out from under the beam?"

He stared at her almost uncomprehendingly before biting his lip. His blue eyes were red rimmed, looking almost moments away from shedding tears.

He breathed out softly, "I can. Merlin, I have to."

He helped her straighten out a bit, shifting her hips carefully as to not agitate anything. Now on her side with one arm keeping her steady she watched her boyfriend shuffle closer to the thick ceiling beam that had crashed down, pinning her, along with the wall that sat on the crumpled front door.

"Okay, okay. You're a man, Weasley. This is your girl. Time to be the hero for once," he muttered, scrutinizing the beam.

"I can cast the featherweight charm but it will only affect the beam. I-I don't think I'll be able to levitate it and move at the same time," Hermione said biting her lip.

"That's… that's okay babe. Let me… let me test this, okay?"

He crouched grabbing the underside and lifting just a bit. Hot agony lanced through her leg, up her spine, and straight into the nerve center in her brain. She didn't even realize she was screaming until a few seconds later.

"Shit! Fuck! Bloody cunt piece of wood! Mione you have to move your leg! Hermione!"

She sobbed, harshly. Oxygen could not cure her of the pain and she knew,  _she knew_  she had to move but dammit her body wasn't responding. Her head was ringing again and Ron's words were fading. Why wouldn't it end?

"Fuck! Babe I have you! Come on, breathe. Breathe!"

She was trying, God, was she trying. It never seemed enough. She briefly wondered if this was anything like what Harry felt. The physical aspect anyway.

There were arms around her, yanking backwards and she cried again, the movement jostling the wooden shards embedded in her calves and thighs. She could actually feel something in her ankle give way, cracking and grinding, as it popped out from under its confinement.

Hermione heaved another sob, her nose clogging and making breathing harder. Her stomach roiled and she was barely able to swallow down the bile.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. You're out. I've got you. It's okay," Ron whispered as he smoothed her hair away from her face, rocking her gently.

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath and held it. She needed to focus. They needed to leave and they couldn't yet. Not without Harry.

The witch hiccupped on a half sob. "You need…. To find… Harry."

"I can't leave you like this!"

"We have to go," she moaned in response. She loved him but sometimes he was a moron. No matter what pain she was in, things would only get worse if they were caught. "S-trategi-cally… we're in a-a bad posi-tion. Find. Harry."

"Right. Right."

He tilted her head back, laying a clammy kiss on her forehead before setting her down gently. With swift but stiff movements he swiped the sticky light onto his fingers and turned deeper into the house.

* * *

Ron Weasley was having a terrible night. First escaping from the Order (not so terrible actually), then worrying over his girlfriend and Harry (pretty terrible), and then Harry blowing up the goddamn house after licking some blood off the wall. What kind of berk does that anyway?

His girlfriend was practically mutilated by debris from the waist down and had a pretty nasty gash on her hairline and Ron was pretty banged up too. Being flung into the living room and smashed through a table and the telly would do that to someone. It was a miracle he was as uninjured as he was. Now he just had to find his twat of a best friend so they could get out of here before the Ministry or the Order swarmed the place.

Tromping through the kitchen as he'd had to go around the giant blockade of the second floor having fallen in, he held the light higher trying to illuminate as much as he could. There was the cupboard under the stairs looking absolutely demolished, which in turn had destroyed half of the stairwell. Harry had been standing right next to it but now there was no signs of him.

"Fuck. Bloody bastard and the things I fucking do for him. Shit!"

The wizard clutched his foot and cursed at the small nail that was now embedded in his shoe and consequently buried in his foot.

This was really not a good day for him.

"Harry," he called. "Harry if you can hear me we need to go! Harry!"

"Ron?"

"Shit!"

The red head jumped forward in fright, landing on his newly injured foot. He stumbled, failed to right himself, and landed arse first on the ground almost knocking his head against the wall.

The lumos illuminated the the ghastly image of his friend staring down at him with hungry flickering eyes. One moment they would be green, the next they glinted an ominous orange that would fade before Ron could actually see any details. What the bloody hell was that?

"Ron," Harry rasped.

Oh Merlin, that  _was_  Harry that had spoken before. The growling hiss sounded absolutely inhuman and it sent shivers down his spine to be addressed by something so obviously beastly.

"Harry, mate. I-it's okay. It's me! Your best friend… you are Harry right?"

Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin.

Something was seriously wrong now that he had scrambled to a standing position and the light was able to catch on the brunette's face better. His lips were a pale shade of bluish white and the skin around his eyes was red and inflamed. His eyes themselves, other than changing color, were bloodshot the white sclera almost completely red. And his skin, Merlin, it was so thin and white his veins stood out starkly.

He looked half dead and his magic was just gone.

"Ron."

"Yea, mate. It's me. We- we have to go before people come."

Harry's eyes drifted slightly to the side, his nose raising in the air. Slowly and silently he made his way towards where Hermione had been left to bleed all over the floor.

"Harry?"

He went ignored.

"Harry! Dammit. We need to go before the Order arrives! Or even worse, the Ministry."

Harry turned quicker than a flash, a hissing screech tumbling from his mouth as well as a splatter of blood that hit the ground right in front of Ron. The ginger froze, free hand outstretched, terror on his face.

His best friend looked absolutely feral. Snarling, with his flat teeth bared, the wizard had dropped into a half crouch, hands curled as if they had claws. Blood was dripping down his chin.

Shit.

Hadn't Fred and George mentioned something about Vampires? Had the blood been vampiric instead of human? Was Harry  _turning_? Was that even enough blood to turn someone? Wasn't it dried and old?

Fuck.

Hermione bleeding would just set him off.

"The Ooooordeeeeer," Harry drawled in a rumble. "I'll kill them."

Ron gulped, slowly drawing his arm back making sure his movements were seen. Harry watched with a gimlet eye, his nose twitching.

"Yea mate. The Order. We can't, uh, k-kill them." Harry hissed violently. Ron yelped, "Not yet! Later! First we have to help Hermione. You remember her right? Your other best friend?"

"M-Mione?"

"That's right. We have to help her. She's hurt right now. It's…" He paused, eyeing the other with pursed lips. "It's gonna smell good to you. You have to swear not to hurt her."

"Smell…. Blooood."

Shitty fucking cuntrag.

"Yea. She's bleeding, Harry. Promise not to hurt her."

The brunette's fingers twitched, his eyes practically rolling in his indecision before he loosened his stance. His face fell into the placid neutrality he'd first seen and Ron tried to swallow with a dry throat. It wasn't very effective, almost sending him into a coughing fit. He swallowed that down, painfully, and focused on getting closer to the thing wearing Harry's skin at the moment. "C'mon, Harry. Let's go get Mione."

The feeling of unease strengthened, his limbs struggling to move under his own power. It felt as if there was a squirming serpent in his head biting it's way up and down his spine trying to drag him down with it's poison. With its cowardice and anger and jealousy. With its worry and fear.

He clenched his teeth so hard he was half concerned they would actually crack or his muscles would lock him into that position. He started forward past Harry, hoping that turning his back wouldn't be the last thing he did.

Why was everything so  _wrong_  today?

The teen followed, nose still twitching.

"Mione, I found Harry."

"Oh thank Merlin," she mumbled fervently.

There was another Lumos stuck beside her on the wall and a few of the smaller wood pieces had been removed and healed. The largest one was still stuck in her right inner thigh, her knee was still twisted the wrong way, and her ankle was mangled but there was a clarity in her brown eyes that hadn't been before.

Ron was thankful for that at least.

"Yea, small problem-"

"Mione!"

"Harry," she yelped trying to dodge the grasping hands now aimed at her face. Ron successfully snatched his friend round the middle before he could jump her. He hefted, his legs protesting the extra weight, until Harry was hanging over his shoulder alternating between growling and whining. "Oh my god what happened to him?"

The ginger turned, definitely not savoring having blunt fingers trying to dig their way into his back along with a squirming bundle to hold onto.

"I'm thinking Vampire blood. We need to leave now."

"V-Vampir- ohno!"

There were voices outside now. Harry snarled louder, thrashing his feet and trying to flex his torso. Ron grunted, throwing one arm over his feet while tightening the other so the corrupted wizard couldn't get too far.

"Ron! Come here I can apparate us!"

"What? In the condition you're in?"

Obviously, he was skeptical. Ron could barely apparate on a good day and she wanted to do it grievously injured?

"Harry's in no state and you're too busy holding onto him so get over here," she demanded. Well, at least she sounded like her old self even if she barely looked it.

He crouched next to her making sure to keep Harry's scrabbling hands away as she grabbed his leg tightly.

"Ready?"

He nodded.

* * *

Ginny frowned, staring critically at herself in the mirror. She had the most terrible feeling that something was going wrong but she couldn't tell what. Bugger, she really wished she could down some Firewhiskey to calm her nerves.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She stepped out of the bathroom, checking on the twins who were watching the door warily from the bed.

An attendant was standing there with an apologetic expression on her face. "I apologize for disturbing you ma'am. You have someone asking for you at the front desk. He's claiming to be your brother. We can't let anyone that isn't a guest further into the hotel. You'll have to come get them."

She blinked, her shoulders sagging in relief. They were okay.

"That's fine. I'll come now."

With a sigh she followed after the woman, her steps quickening the closer they got to the front desk. Ron was standing there, arms crossed, his muscles tightened and jaws clenched.

"Ron," she called as she practically sprinted across the lobby.

"Let's go."

"Wait, what? Where are Harry and Hermione? What happened?"

"Nothing good," he muttered as he spun on his heel to go back out the front doors.

"Ronald, tell me whats going on this instant," Ginny demanded.

She didn't like surprises. She never had. And this was shaping up to be a nasty surprise. She tried to grab him arm to stop him but he burst through the front door and started a fast limping jog down the sidewalk. Ginny stumbled after him her earlier relief being washed away by her returning nerves.

"Look Gin. The faster we get there the better. It's… it's pretty bad. Harry is knocked out and needs to stay that way. If he wakes still all…" he flung his arm out, hand twisting in circular motion near his temple, "Hermione is going to be in a lot of trouble. She's... can't defend herself right now. She-" he choked off, his voice rough and trembling.

Ginny felt her stomach drop to her toes right alongside her heart. She was not going to like this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor bit of gore but not too bad, ne? Just wait till the vampires swoop in!
> 
> Tell me what you think?


	5. Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul regrets his choices and the gang gets a little bit of time to rest.

Paul stared at the wizards practically swarming the collapsed house. Even being across the street hadn't saved him from being blasted off the roof. Which was unfortunate because if he hadn't been sure before that the ailing boy was Daniel he sure as hell knew it now.

Fuck.

He'd missed his chance to grab him, being dazed as he was sitting in the rubble of the room he'd careened into. As soon as he was back in his right mind he'd flown back to the house just in time to hear that annoyingly loud crack of wizardry teleportation. Daniel and the two wizards that had him were gone. Luckily, their smell was not. Especially the bushy haired female that had bled all over the entrance hall.

Unfortunately,  _ again _ , he was not the best tracker of the group. That honor going to Marko and his weirdly sensitive nose. And with how the wizards were muddling the scent with their own as they combed the entire house, it would be up to Paul to track down the teens.

Man, Dwayne was gonna tear his hide to strips about the missed opportunity. Not that Paul didn't already feel awful. They'd been looking for their little dude for ten years. He had already grown and would continue to grow older without them. That could not stand. This was the closest they'd been in a long time and vampires were nothing if not possessive especially over their own.

He sighed through his nose, his orange eyes glaring at the anthill below before turning and flying off to rejoin his brothers.

* * *

 

George stared down at the bed in disbelief. Hermione looked… absolutely horrific from the waist down. There were shards of wood sticking out from her skin like a rose's thorns and her ankle… it laid entirely flat against the bed like it had been ripped away from the rest of her leg and the only thing keeping it there was her flesh. And above that was a pure white bone sticking straight out of her shin.

This was bad. This was bad on another level of wholesomely bad. Hermione was the Healer of the group. He knew some things, more based in potions than anything but this was beyond even George's level of competence. Hermione should have been the one to tackle such injuries but instead she was the one who suffered them.

George bit his lip, clenching his twin's fist between his own fingers, seeking comfort.

Ginny huffed, in the doorway, attracting everyone's attention. Ron looked up from his unconscious girlfriend and Fred and George glanced over. Harry was situated on her back, his head hanging over shoulder and arms draped in front of her. Her arms were clearly spasming and sweat was trickling down her brow but she looked determined enough to get him in the room.

"This guy… didn't he used to be lighter? I mean, I'm glad he's apparently gaining weight but Merlin did he get heavy," she grunted. Hiking her arms up again so Harry's thighs sat above her hips.

"Put him in the bathroom, Gin," Ron muttered glancing back down at Hermione. George pursed his lips at the tortured expression on his younger brother's face. The twins did love to torment him every now and then but Ron was still family, their little brother, and seeing him hurting like this was absolutely wretched.

"What? Wouldn't he better if he was where we can see him?"

Ginny kicked the door closed behind her and stepped towards the bathroom door despite her words.

Ron just smiled grimly. "You didn't see him, Gin. You don't want to see him if he wakes up. At least if he's in there, there's no windows and we know he's safe."

"What exactly do you mean," Fred asked, his feet shifting. George shifted to match him. He'd like to know too. He was already running through a list of what he'd need to at least get Hermione stable, the stasis charm would only help until it ended, so it would be best to know if he needed anything for their patron as well.

"You remember how you mentioned Vampires? There was blood on the wall and that bloody berk licked it. I don't even know what happened. One minute he's stumbling, almost sicking up every second, the next he's stalking forward like a werewolf about to pounce. Then the blood. Then the house bloody well exploded." He gestured to Hermione. "She saved all of us even looking like this. Knocked Harry out as soon as we landed in that alley and told me to get you guys before placing a stasis charm on herself. Didn't even know that was possible."

The redhead's grim smile turned a little fond.

"You said you could help her, right George?"

He bit his lip, accepting the comforting squeeze of his twin's hand. "I should be able to at least get her out of the danger zone. I'm no healer but I know of a few potions I have already and Fred can help speed the process."

"I know a few minor spells. Sort of need them when you're experimenting."

Ron slumped, obviously relieved.

"Hey guys can you grab the-" Ginny cut herself of with a loud yelp, startling everyone. George about faced so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

Harry's arm had slipped and he was leaning precariously, looking about to fall and drag Ginny with him. Ginny's arms were twitching now under the weight and she looked barely balanced.

"Well, don't just stare! Help me out," she growled.

Fred started forward towards the bathroom door and George strode over to help with their unconscious friend. His legs wobbled just a bit, though he'd never admit it, at the rush of fear and energy that filled him. Ron mentioning Harry licking Vampire blood was not helping his twitchy alertness. And that the brunette was on his little sister's back, his nose almost buried in her shoulder. Yea. That was a scare he didn't want again. He loved Harry like the little adopted brother he was but he wasn't about to let Ginny be mauled.

With all three of them working together, Harry was settled into the tub head leaning against the tiles. He'd have quite the crick in his neck but would otherwise be fine.

Now Gred could focus, with Forge, on supplies from their shop. This would even make their lie about visiting more credible, at least.

* * *

 

Hermione woke slowly. In moments of light and voices between the dark warmth pulling her down. Finally, her eyelids cooperated, ungluing and opening enough she could squint against the small bit of light that invaded the room. The bed was soft beneath her, the pillows firmer than she was used to but good support.

Then the pain hit her. More of an ache really. Much less than she was expecting which was nice.

"Hermione?"

She turned her head blearily gazing at long red hair.

"Ginny?"

"Yea. Ron's here too but he's asleep. Fred and George are back at their shop again to waylay any curious Order members. They helped fix up what they could earlier."

Hermione was always an easy riser so this grogginess was very strange and frustrating. She'd only gotten about half of what the youngest Weasley was saying.

"What?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm, uh, a bit tired too. Could collapse right here really but Ron's gotta get at least 'nother hour. He only just fell asleep a bit ago. Um, sorry. Hang on. I think they have some breakfast for free downstairs. I'll grab you something. Sit tight."

Then the whirlwind was gone and she was given her own time to think and wake up. For a minute or two she just laid there staring at the ceiling, mind blank. Much slower than she'd like, events from last night started trickling in. The escape, the explosion, the apparating. Her injuries.

With a grunt, and figuring out motor functions again, Hermione was able to scoot back a bit and sit up. She ran an assessing eye over herself after pulling off the blankets. Her legs were bandaged all the way up, one sitting strangely, as if flat. She tried to move it. Nothing happened. Oh… the bones had probably been damaged enough to vanish them. Had she been given Skele-Gro? It was supposed to be extremely painful and she didn't feel that bad.

The witch pulled the blanket back, swallowing harshly.

To avoid nasty unappealing thoughts, she carefully twisted to right the pillows behind her so they would help support her sitting up. Already her lower back was aching from the effort alone.

The door opened and Ginny walked in, carefully balancing two plates of food on one arm and two cups in one hand.

She offered a cup to Hermione, which the brunette carefully took, before setting the rest on the desk. The smell of coffee wafted from the white paper cup and Hermione couldn't help but savor it. It wasn't strong but it would be enough to hopefully kickstart the rest of her brain into action.

"Fred and George said it would be safe to drink coffee after a few hours. It's been… a couple hours past that."

"What time is it," she asked, carefully taking a sip. Perfectly hot.

"Around eleven in the afternoon."

"Can you tell me what happened? Last night?"

Ginny nodded. "Only if you tell me what you remember from last night. Ron was sort of gruff and short about it."

"Deal," Hermione smirked.

She took time to savor the coffee and the smaller plate that Ginny brought, filled with fruits and a few sausage patties, while listening to the girl that sat beside her.

"Well, Ron came into the hotel, had an attendant get me since they wouldn't let him up, and then stormed out as soon as I saw him. He led me to the alley where Harry was out cold against the wall and you were just lying there prone and bleeding. It… wasn't a pretty sight, Mione, even if you were already under your stasis charm. Good work by the way. If it was any less stable it might have shattered when we moved you and then you might not have… well."

Hermione winced into her cup. It had been a risk but she had already cast the magic. She didn't need Ron exposing his signature as well. And there were no muggles around that should have alerted the Ministry or anything.

"Thanks."

"Mhmm. Anyway, Ron practically ran back here with you. He left me with Harry and a warning about not letting him wake up. So, I put him on my back and marched. Got here, put him in the tub for everyone's safety."

"Everyone's?"

Hermione vaguely remembered her friend jumping for her but that was about it. The events, while clear in some places, were extremely blurry in others.

"Yea. Ron said the dingus licked some blood off the wall and there was a high chance it was a Vampire's. He had the look of a changeling going on and I'm pretty inclined to agree with him. After Fred and George grabbed some potions and fixed you up best they could, Harry started banging on the door and growling about how hungry he was. George had to magically lock the door since it normally locks from the inside. Right scary that bloody was. Almost got in trouble with the staff for that, too. Fred's got a silver tongue when he wants and George was able to hustle the poor man out before he even realized what happened. We didn't want him to come into the room and see you. Harry had stopped by then, too, so no one came back but we were warned that we would be escorted out if it happened again."

"Sounds… eventful."

"Yea. Hermione? Are you okay?"

The witch blinked. Why would Ginny ask that unless she seemed not okay?

"I, um, yes? I ache but nothing too bad. I was expecting much worse actually."

"I'm not talking about physically. You had a house dropped on you and almost got attacked by Harry."

"Oh." She was trying really hard not to think about that actually. Her mind could be put to better use figuring out what they could be doing in the future. "I'll be fine, Gin. Thank you. Right now I'm more worried about my magic use. And the twins'."

The redhead snorted. "If they really were able to track you I think it would have been done by now. It's been a long time and while the Ministry is stupid, they can work really fast when they want. The Order would have descended upon us like a hungry pack of doxies."

Something in her eased at that but she still wasn't convinced.

"Well, just in case."

Ginny stared. Hard. Her brown eyes were practically lit with an inner fire.

"Hermione you are wonderful and amazing. Take a moment for yourself. You're hurt. We get that. You don't need to be planning every contingency from here to Australia right now. In fact, I'd rather you wouldn't."

Her lips pursed, fingers clenching around her cup. "We don't have time-"

"Yes," the Weaslette cut in. "We do. We really do. Now you. Focus on yourself and your healing. You've had Skele-Gro which should be finished in the next few hours. So go back to sleep."

"You have terrible bedside manners."

"Like you're any better," she snorted again. "Besides I'm not the healer crucial to this little runaway group."

"I'm not a Healer," Hermione protested. She'd need an actual licence and studying books was not near enough to qualify her for the task of taking actual people.

"Who knows the most spells and can actually put them into practice?"

"But-"

"Because Harry certainly can't. Anything other than Episkey and whatever he is working on explodes."

"Ginny-"

"Ron definitely doesn't. I love him but he's as dense a rock."

"Now that's-

"I definitely can't. I'm more offensively trained. I know jack all about healing and even if I could learn we need that information now."

"Will you-"

"Fred and George are passable enough to keep themselves from the hospital wing. Everything else has to heal naturally. So-"

Hermione let out an exasperated, "Ugh!"

"My precious lovely dearest friend. We need you! So go back to sleep!"

She did go back to sleep with a full belly and a slight smile on her face.

* * *

 

Ron woke with a grumble, his neck lancing pain down his back as he shifted.

"Ron?"

He looked up blinking away the sleep. Hermione was still sleeping soundly on the bed and Ginny had a plate in her hand with a few pastries and biscuits.

"I've got some food from this morning for you."

"What time is it?"

"Mm, around 4 in the afternoon."

Ron straight up in shock. "What!? Why'd you let me sleep so long?"

Her expression turned sheepish and the plate was lowered onto the bed in front of him. She sat herself down on the bed being careful to not jostle the sleeping witch. "Weeeeell," she started, "I meant to wake you up a few hours after you fell asleep but then Hermione woke up-" Ron twitched. She hadn't woken him up, why? "-and I got distracted. Then I sort of… fell asleep on the floor. I only woke up a few minutes earlier."

The ginger had to try very hard not to strangle his sister. "You know it's called a watch rotation for a reason?"

Her expression fell at his strained voice. "I know and I'm sorry. It's just… You were so tired and so was I and Hermione really needs rest right now. I figured… where would be the harm?"

Ron swallowed. His throat was still tight and somewhat raspy but it was much better than last night, at least. The sleep did help and they all needed it but what she did could have put them all at risk. What if something had happened and they weren't awake enough to protect themselves?

"Ginny. I love you but this time you were the moron. I don't think you quite understand the danger-"

"Of course I do!"

"You don't," he roared, shooting up into an aggressive standing position. She quailed, eyes wide with unshed tears. "You don't," he continued much quieter. He glanced at Hermione but she hadn't even stirred. "I'm sorry Gin but the closest you ever came to the fighting was the Ministry and even then you weren't in the midst of it. The Death Eaters are merciless. The Order… they've got good hearts but Merlin if they aren't too good. Harry was right. You can't win without sacrifice and that's just what they're trying to do. Their no kill policy has wiped out over half of the members already."

"What?" She looked startled.

"It's not that hard to figure out. I did some digging into the last war to see if I could learn some old DE tactics to help us. Not one Order member made a kill but so many of them died in the process. And look what good it did them. The war is starting all over again with players that should have been wiped from the board."

"Ron, I-"

"Even still, their methods of imprisonment aren't to be underestimated. If they find us, we're screwed unless we fight back. And then there's this Vampire rubbish. They can only come out at night but what if Harry had woken? We know halflings can live in the sun. You put all of us in danger," he hiccupped with sagging shoulders.

He hadn't meant to start crying during his tirade but dammit his friends and family meant the world to him. He needed her to understand what was at stake.

"I'm sorry," she said with pursed lips. "I… I just wanted us to all be able to rest. I thought…"

"You're fine, Ginny."

Both of them jumped and turned to the brunette. She still had her eyes closed but her lips parted again to speak. "Ron stop being mean to your sister. She was just trying to take care of us."

"Mione-"

"No." Her eyes flashed opened wearily. "I understand you're worried and she understands she made a mistake. Please don't turn this into a big mess."

The red head deflated, sinking back down onto the uncomfortable desk chair.

"Sorry Gin."

"Nah. I'm sorry. Won't happen again, I swear it."

He gave her a small smile before turning to his girl. "How are you feeling?"

"Still groggy but much better than earlier. The food probably helped me digest the potions easier. Thanks for that Gin. But what we really need to worry about now is what we're going to do next. Staying here isn't recommended."

Ginny shifted further onto the bed crossing her legs under her. "But didn't you recommend this place because it was out of the way?"

Hermione nodded. "I did. But… Just in case, it's better to move. There was magic cast here and just because no one has showed up yet doesn't mean they wont. Then there's the risk of the vampires tracking me."

"Do you really think that'll happen," Ron questioned softly. His brow was lined with worry and his teeth found purchase in his bottom lip.

"No, not really. There was a lot of blood left at the house, though, Ron. It could just be a coincidence that vampires went after the Dursleys but I highly doubt it. No one else in the neighborhood was touched. And… the blood on the wall worries me. If it was human it would make sense but it wasn't. I think it might have been left there deliberately. It also looked like someone took a cup and splashed it on the wall." She paused her face warming. "Not that I would know what actual blood splatter looks like-"

"Did you actually notice that," Ginny asked disbelievingly at the same time Ron chuckled, "That's my girl. Always noticing the details even with our lives at stake."

Hermione spluttered and Ron couldn't help but feel the warmth in his heart flare. He'd been beyond worried at Privet Dr. when he'd found her and seeing her, not quite up but, back to her regular self was extremely heartening. More than heartening. It was as if his entire soul was lighter, freer, and happier. Relief lifted the burden from his shoulders.

"Okay but we really need to focus," she sniffed indignantly.

"Course we do," Ron said with a dopey smile while Ginny laughed heartily.

"Now the question is do we stay for one more night or do we try to go somewhere else today?"

Ron mulled it over for a second. "What are the pros and cons you've thought of?"

"Well… a lot. But the major cons are, if we stay there is a higher chance of being caught here. If we go… there's a higher chance of running into the vampires if we're not able to get somewhere before dark."

"Well fuck."

"Ginny!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Harry is still out of commission but at least you got to see one of the Lost Boys! They're on the trail now!


	6. Sip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the hunt begins with a sip of the forbidden nectar.

"Paul!"

The rocker vampire yelped letting out a loud cackle before vaulting over the pristine fancy looking dark blue couch and in between Marko and Michael. Sam was hot on his heels, concentration marring his features. "Just try to catch me midget!"

"If you don't stop running you might find Holy Water in your shampoo again," Marko snickered.

Sam could be a vindictive little spitfire when you messed with his comics. David was actually pretty smug about that. Said something about 'of course his childe was vicious'.

Michael was busying himself with the TV, keeping an eye on the news for the Surrey explosion. The muggles, as the wizarding world called them, couldn't add much more than they already knew but Dwayne was adamant that they couldn't miss anything in case it was crucial.

Marko tsked at the pang of irritation not his own that rang in the back of his head. Dwayne had been pretty touchy the last few years about Daniel. The closer they all got the more frantic their brother became. They all felt it, of course. The frayed bond with him was still there, weak as a spider's thread and stretched so taut a feather could break it, but there. David had put it down to the magic the kid had had still trying to connect them even if they weren't technically packmates anymore. It was one of the reasons they were all so intent on getting the boy back. He was still theirs and the wizards had committed a grievous slight by taking him.

Which was actually a thing in their laws. Vampiric laws. That one particular law even wizards respected. As long as they could get Daniel back and prove he was theirs first, the wizards that took him could be submitted to the English councils for punishments. Not that it happened very often. Wizards were extremely prejudiced against any magical creatures or beings and they fought pretty hard to find any loophole to use against them to win in court. Or they 'sent' hunters. Whichever had a higher chance of the human magicals coming out on top. Fucking bastards.

Paul sped right in front of Marko, who stuck his foot out. The blonde tripped, sailing through the air, and careened into the stone brick wall across the room. The rocker groaned and Sam pounced, landing both feet square in the middle of the stoner's back. The kid swooped down, snatching his rolled Batman comic with a triumphant cry followed by a mini dance; still on Paul's back.

Michael snorted at Paul's mental tirade of curses. He side- eyed his two brothers with a grin. "You think you would have learned by now Paul."

_Fuck off, Michael._

The blue eyed vampire snorted and nudged Marko with an elbow. "I think he likes it."

Marko howled with laughter at Sam's 'gross' and Paul's ever increasing vulgarity.

"Boys, can you ever not be children?"

Everyone, except Paul whose face was still smashed into the stone, turned to look at David who was smirking in the doorway.

_Where's the fun in that_ , Paul whined. With a heave he launched himself backwards startling their, technically, youngest member into flight.  _It's not like I can addle my senses with drugs right now. Dwayne already chucked me in the ocean for letting Daniel slip through my fingers._

_Dude, that was pretty harsh_ , Michael hummed. Marko agreed. The burns took all night (and several choice meals) to heal.

Sam scoffed, letting his feet touch back down on the floor. Even after 10 years, flying still unnerved the kid… even if he did it instinctually now.  _Poor Paul. Definitely didn't deserve it._

_Bite me bitch_ , Paul snarled flashing his teeth at Sam's dripping sarcasm. The blonde shook out his mane of hair and sniffed before trotting over and plopping himself between Marko and Michael. They both grunted at him but moved over to make room.

David stalked into the room, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He'd more than once complained about not smoking in their mindspace but as the leader of their group he had the most rules to follow so they didn't insult their host. He swaggered to the couch, leaning his elbows and body weight on it, hands dropping on Marko's and Michael's head to mess with their hair. They both gave an indignant shout. Marko turned to bite at the gloved hand while the brunette slid off the couch to stand next to his little brother, jabbing his fingers into the boy's ribs with a smirk.

"Aw c'mon Mikey. Really?"

The kid danced out of reach before trying to turn the tables and failing. He got caught in a headlock instead.

"Yea really you twerp. Why you gotta cause trouble?"

"Me? Trouble? Mike, I wouldn't dare. David might eat me," he choked with a snigger.

David grinned, shark-like, with a teasing gleam in his eyes. "I think Paul is the one that needs to be eaten."

He leaned down to nip at the blonde's ear teasingly.

Sam groaned, trying to hid his face in his brother's arm and only succeeding in choking himself more. Marko howled along with Paul. As a pack they were closer and more physically intimate than most humans were comfortable with. Sam seemed to have carried that with him, along with his sense of empathy -which was rather strange- into his undead life. Made for really easy teasing, though.

_Are we ready?_ Dwayne's voice rang through their heads like a solemn gong.

Marko frowned. Poor brother was really taking it hard. He hadn't been able to honestly join in on any fun within the last two years -too busy working his ass off every minute he spent awake-. Not since their host had found Daniel in the magical world.

_Yea Dwayne_ , he responded.  _We'll get him back._

The native american appeared in the doorway, his orange eyes blazing. He flashed his teeth and looked to David. Their leader smirked and tipped his chin.

_Tonight we hunt._

* * *

Ginny sighed at the news the twins brought. The Order was going out of their minds, their mother especially, with worry. They were running around like chickens with their heads cut off to try to find them.

"That's it?"

"That's everything-

"We know so far."

"Alright. Thanks, guys." She flopped onto the bed with another sigh. She really wished Ron and Hermione had taken her with them. This was the second time she was missing out on actually doing stuff. She wanted to help too dammit!

"Awww," Fred cooed, leaning over her.

"Is poor Gin Gin bored," George chuckled, smiling with way too many teeth.

"Don't even think about it," she grunted, kicking her leg out lazily. The twins dodged easily, snickering behind their hands.

"Of course, of course."

"Hey-"

"Isn't it getting dark-"

"Already? Where are-"

"The other two?"

"Out trying to secure us a new hotel room. They decided that the faster we moved the better. After you guys said you could come back to visit tonight they thought it might be best to split up for a night. Tomorrow I'll go over to where they are."

Which wasn't a bad plan but it still didn't make her feel better. If the vampires could track Hermione, wouldn't it be better if they were together? But no, she thought it was best to keep them away from Harry which… was smart. If they got their slimy claws on him it would be extremely difficult to get him back.

And, of course, Ron wouldn't leave his girlfriend so Ginny was stuck with Harry who was still Inferi like. Creepy, but boring.

"Hmm…" The twins glanced at each other. "Are you hungry?"

"I mean… a bit but I don't think I should trust any food coming from you guys," she snorted, smirking at the ceiling.

They grinned. "Fair. We're still going to get you some. There was a little noodle shop we saw earlier. We'll get some take away."

"Fine fine. I'll just lounge here and starve."

They both laughed before leaving. She glanced at the small clock on the nightstand.

6:13pm. The sun had already set.

She let out a huff of breath, sending a quick prayer to magic that Hermione and Ron would be safe. Manchester was a fair distance after all.

* * *

He stared at the door. Trapped. He knew but could hardly muddle through the heavy clouds mucking up his thoughts. There was a lock. He tried it but it didn't budge.

His head hurt, his lungs were tight, his fingers and mouth itched.

He was trapped and his throat was burning with  _needneedneedneed_.

They were there too. After so long. He could feel them. So far. So close. He just needed to not be trapped.

His vision flickered, a flash of greenish gold appearing over the handle.

He was hungry, so hungry that his stomach was knotted and making him dizzy. So hungry that he felt he could dry heave the nothing right out of his belly. So hungry his throat ached and itched with every breath.

If he couldn't have what he needed, the smell so alluring and tempting on the other side of the door, then maybe he could try what was on the handle? It didn't smell, wasn't tempting, but still something in him cried at it. Longed for it. It was a small piece. Not enough.  _Never enough_.

He leaned down, bloodshot dry eyes staring hard at the unpolished brass. Within a second he had chomped down on the flicker of light coating the handle. It struggled, stinging, burning, fighting but he didn't care.

It was his now.

He swallowed.

And, oh, what clarity of mind it gave him. The clouds swept away and he could finally feel the burning agony that encased his weak shell in its entirety.  ** _He was so hungry_**!

But more than that he could feel them again. They were so weak, so far from him but he remembered. He could call them just as he had before. More than anything he needed to be with them again. They could help him. They could fix him. He was never hungry with them.

With everything he had -not much because he was still so  _confused_  and  _hungry_ \- he sent a plea, a tug, a cry for help.

Was that a tug back? He couldn't tell. He need to go, to be out there. To find them.

He tried the door again. It opened slowly and silently.

* * *

Ginny shivered, opening her eyes to the much darker room. She couldn't have been out that long surely? A quick, squinted glance at the clock proved she hadn't. It was only 6:42. But what had startled her awake?

With a groan she stretched her arms and sat up. There was nothing in the room that looked suspicious. Hm. Maybe all the stress was starting to get her. Or the boredom. She did get twitchy when she was bored.

She glanced at the door wondering why it was taking so long for her brothers to get back.

Wait… Was the bathroom door open?

The witch shot to her feet, a strong feeling of dread and apprehension slithering down her back leaving goose pimples in its wake. Her eyes looked around frantically as she spun on the spot looking for Harry. Even as well adjusted as her eyes were, she saw nothing. There was no Potter hiding in the shadowed corner. No pale skin standing out starkly in the darkness.

With a gulp, she looked to the only place he could still be if he hadn't left.

"Harry," she called out nervously. "Are you still in the bathroom?"

With quiet steps and panting breaths she went around the bed and crouched next to her bag under the bed and slowly pulled it out. Her wand was in its holster that the twins had given her tied to the outside of the bag for easy access. She snatched it up quickly and jerked to a standing position at a soft snuffling sound. Standing only two yards away was Harry and, dear Merlin, did he look terrible. If she'd thought he looked bad before, after his magic episodes, that had nothing on how horrendous he could look.

His cheeks were gaunt as if he'd been starving his entire life -not entirely inaccurate if she thought about how he looked after he came back from the Dursley's every summer-, his eyes were half lidded and dull and so dark that she couldn't make out anything without more light. The eyes bags were prominent and his head and body were hunched in such a way that he looked like a beaten dog. Merlin, she was almost afraid to see what he'd look like when she could clearly make out his features.

"Harry? It's me Ginny."

The silence was slightly unnerving and she couldn't help but think back on Ron's warning and the crying from the bathroom last night.

"Harry, I'm going to open the curtains, okay?"

Whether or not he heard her, he made no move to acknowledge the words. Slightly emboldened, the redhead shuffled awkwardly over to the window. Inch by inch she peeled them back, keeping an eye on her friend and crush. She needed to be careful. She knew that.  _She knew that_.

So when she glanced away, startling at a noise from outside, she had enough sense about her to kick Harry in the nads when he jumped her. He moved extremely quickly, backing away with a pained hiss. He stared at her, a sliver of moonlight alighting on his face showing the sickly pallor of his skin and the absolutely feral look in his eyes as he bared sharpened teeth.

It suddenly hit her like a rampaging Hippogriff. Harry, her wonderful, fun, sarcastic Harry was in the process of changing. Much too quickly than should be normal but still transforming. Ginny had hoped that everything they'd said had been… not a lie but speculation. Something that would be wrong and the brunette would be okay and they could go back to forming their own little faction in the war. It hit her and it hit her hard.

Her knees shook, sobs stole her breath away, but still she kept her wand in hand  _tightly_  held. So tightly it was starting to creak and leave painful grooves without actually piercing her flesh.

"Don't you dare, Harry Potter," she snarled. "Don't you dare try that again. I will bat-bogey your face so hard you'll be crying for months."

Harry tilted his head like a curious animal before lifting his hand and licking his nails paying her almost no mind.

What?

He moaned his body nearly sagging before his head snapped up and she was faced with the full hunger of a half turned vampire. The face of a predator staring down a mightily delicious prey. The features of his face were more angular and his eyes were a deep orange ringed in red.

Oh. Oh no. She recognized those eyes from a DADA lesson in second year. Of the multiple types of vampires these ones were the most immune to magics. Only the weird muggle religious stuff could off them. They had a lot of weaknesses she just needed to remember them to exploit them. Except she was having trouble trying to remember anything over her panic and pounding heart as he lunged again.

She screeched in fright throwing herself onto the bed to roll away. It was a painfully awkward landing on the floor but she hopped up and shoved herself against the wall. Now there was a bed between her and him and Ginny was closer to the door. And, Merlin, if she ran would he chase her or try to go after a helpless muggle? Shit, she couldn't let him outside of the room.

Harry growled at her, going into a half crouch with his fingers curled as if they had claws. He lunged.

"Confringo!"

Then he hit the back wall with an ear rending screech and a painful thud before sliding to the ground. Ginny gulped pushing herself off the wall, wand hand trembling with the rest of her. She… she needed to get him back in the bathroom. How in the world had he even gotten out? The redhead doubted that the locking charm had worn off.

She was by the end of the bed when the doorknob rattled before the piece of wood was almost torn off its hinges. George and Fred almost got their faces blasted off by their younger sister when they stormed in.

"Ginny, are you alright!?"

"What happened!?"

"I-I…"

Her mouth wouldn't cooperate and she almost drowned in the sense of relief. It didn't last very long.

* * *

Fred stared in horror as his sister was tackled from behind -oh bloody hell was the bathroom door open!?- and sent sprawling. Her choked scream was absolutely chilling but it spurred him and George into action. He lunged forward his fingers hooking through the messy knotted locks on Harry's head with one hand, the other going to restrain an entire arm by yanking it back. George went for the mouth.

Fred could absolutely not jerk back for fear of mangling his sister's neck but if Harry wasn't pulled off he would easily be able to drain her.

"Fuck, Harry we love you but  _LET. GO!_ "

George grunted in frustration his hands going back to his fallen wand as he brought it up with a determined fierceness. "Lumos Solem."

Harry let go with a screech and Fred was able to wrestle the boy down to the floor. The halfling bucked, skin smoking, and Fred tsked, tightening his precarious hold. At least his five years as a beater were good for something, right?

"How is she," he demanded.

"I'm fine," Ginny croaked in response her voice cracking dangerously.

George scoffed loudly. "You are not. Now be quiet."

There was a few moments of silence, the only noise being Harry's struggles and Fred's grunts. Then George was standing next to him with a grim face. He lifted his wand, carefully pointing it at Harry's eyes and cast a Stupefy. The brunette slumped, eyes glassy and green again. Fred let out a breath of relief and turned his attention to Ginny.

Her face was streaked with tears and there was a bandage around her neck with a few spots of red. Her eyes carried a fierce determination, though. So that was good. At least she wasn't as traumatized as second year.

"Come on, Fred. I'll grab his legs, you get his torso. Let's put him back in the tub."

They both dropped him, only slightly carefully, back into the bathroom before reapplying the locking charm. Then he turned to the front door and poked his head out making sure no curious or concerned muggles were around before repairing it.

"That was ridiculous," Fred groused as he worked. "What happened to the previous charm?"

Ginny shuffled over bumping his shoulder and he gave a weak smile in return. Shit. He'd almost lost his sister. His hand fumbled with his wand, the smooth wood almost falling to the floor. He barely finished the spell before the world got heavier and his limbs felt leaden, head heavy and staticy. What if they'd been too late? His heartbeat was louder and painful. What if they'd come back to a fully turned vampire, his little sister drained and pale and lifeless on the floor? His fingers clenched, nails digging into his palms as the brown wood creaked ominously. Would he have had the heart to kill his adopted brother? Their fun sassy little partner in crime? The last legacy of the Marauders and Sirius Black? One of the few who could actually tell them apart?

A hand on his arm startled him and he turned to stare at his own face. Then he realized his face was wet and hot and his jaw ached from clenching his teeth. George patted his forearm lightly and took his hand to lead him over to the bed. Ginny followed, pulling them both into a hug as they sat on the bed.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep."

George snorted and Fred knew that he was a lot less put together on the inside than he looked. His twin was the more compassionate, the gentler one, but also the more composed. Fred had always been more passionate, more showy and filled with a heat that could sometimes consume him. George was his soothing water and he, his brother's igniting fire.

"We won't say it's fine, because it's not but we are glad you're alright," they chorused.

They both moved their hands up to ruffle her hair. She grunted but didn't move, brown eyes twinkling back at them. The bandage, a cruel reminder, shined a bright white in the small amount of moonlight coming from the window.

* * *

Sam shuffled up the stairs, anticipation making his fangs itch in his mouth. They always did when he was on a hunt. Though, this time it was a little different, more of a search and rescue, just like some of the superheroes in his comics. They'd be saving a little boy lost to time. One of their own cruelly ripped away from them. He couldn't wait.

He barely knew Daniel then. He'd only just been turned and he didn't have the same connection the other guys felt since he was David's and not Max's. But… he'd been around the pack long enough to feel the echo of something missing. It was an aching chasm and if it felt like that to him then he could hardly imagine how it felt to the rest. He was so ready to bring back one of their own and fix the gnawing pain that they all felt.

Oh. He smelled blood. Strong and thick, recently spilled.

His eyes flickered in his excitement and his lips kept tugging up at the corners. He pushed open the stairwell door and the tempting scent grew even stronger. Closer and closer and closer and closer.

212.

He stared at the door hungrily. There was a lingering smell of burnt sugar in the air signifying some sort of magic. Why was it always sweet? He liked sweets but magic was just nose curdling and it put him off his dessert more than once, which was annoying. But the irony tang of blood covered most of it, made it almost pleasant.

He really hoped there was more blood spilt tonight.

_Found the room._

The feeling of his Sire inside of his mind was strange. Hard to explain. It felt maybe like sentient smoke wrapping around him, filling him, possessing him. But there was no control there, not without an order. It was just David seeing through his eyes, hearing through his ears, and smelling through his nose. Like someone else was there beside him, silent company, unseen and unheard. A comfort now unlike the very beginning when he'd freaked out more times than he could count. Transitioning was not the easiest for Sam, unfortunately.

_Good job, Sam. You know what do. We need two minutes before crashing the party._

_On it_ , he replied with glee.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot rolls forward! The Weasleys are in danger and Ron and Hermione are out and about. And more Vampire goodness!
> 
> I can't wait for things to finally go down! Tell me what ya'll think?


	7. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Hermione made a mistake. Ron sort of fixes it. Marko, Paul and Michael don't appreciate that.

"Hermione, I don't really feel all that great about leaving Ginny behind."

Hermione huffed again. "You said that already. For the fifth time. I love you, Ron but you're getting repetitive."

"It's an honest worry!"

"It is but your sister can handle sitting in the hotel room until we get a new place. Fred and George are supposed to be with her soon."

Her boyfriend sighed through his nose, "Normally, I'd agree but it's Harry she's watching. The guy attracts trouble even when he's not doing anything."

Her stomach churned as she glanced at the setting sun from inside the train. It was packed with all sorts of muggles and the air was slightly stuffy, not helping her in the slightest. Ron wasn't wrong. Harry was a magnet for unfortunate happenstances.

"Well we can't do anything about it now," she snapped before immediately regretting it.

Her mood had taken a sharp nosedive ever since they'd left the hotel. Her mind just wouldn't stop churning out all the worst possible outcomes this whole situation could have. And there was still the slight ache of her healing wounds. Potions and spells could only do so much before it had to be left to the body and dear merlin did she wish she could have some sort of super regeneration. She remembered being glad about not feeling the Skele-Gro at work. She wanted that back. Whatever spell had been used to numb her leg had worn off about half an hour ago and the whole limb was constantly throbbing to the beat of her heart. It was distracting, disorienting, and agitating. Not to mention the flashes of phantom pains where splinters had decorated her skin like a porcupine's back.

The look on Ron's face made her feel even worse.

"I'm sorry."

His lips pinched, whitening under the pressure. "Me too," he whispered just loud enough to hear over everyone. "I just… I worry. The world is… dangerous. Even more so now with everything that's going on and I just have this… gnawing in my gut that something is wrong. I'll try to… I just…"

I know, Hermione wanted to say. She didn't. Her hand found his and clenched it tight as the sun disappeared on the horizon.

It was another hour before they got to the station and disembarked. It was well and truly dark by then and Hermione couldn't stop the jittery way her hands shook and fidgeted or the swirling tornado of thoughts trying to swoop her out of reality. Getting lost in her own head would be disastrous. She was the smart one, the one that always had a plan. The boys relied on her and she couldn't let them down. It was a responsibility she'd gladly accepted at eleven years old when she wanted - _needed_ \- acknowledgment. Now it weighed down her shoulders and forced her to move forward.

As much as she wanted to trust the adults -and she trusted Dumbledore  _she did_ \- she just couldn't. It had been proven time and time again that doing things their way was faster because nobody listened. At Hogwarts it had been a bit of an ego booster. She'd been better than the adults, which was amazing… but now she just wished they didn't have to be doing this. The Order wasn't doing anything - _and just like always Dumbledore didn't listen_ -, the Death Eaters were running rampant, and the Ministry was the worst case of corrupt government she'd ever heard of.

She sucked in an unusually arid breath. It… hadn't rained in the last few weeks had it?

"Mione?"

She jumped, fingers brushing the wand in her thigh holster. "What?"

"You okay, babe? You look a million miles away."

Ron was staring at her with wide hazel eyes and her mouth upturned into a soft smile. "Yes. Yes, I'm okay. Just thinking, you now?"

"Do I ever," he snorted. "You think too much to be healthy."

She giggle snorted, her hand covering her mouth to abort the sound. "I'm pretty sure you'd die if you ever used your brain, so I have to think for the both of us."

"Hey," he snickered in fake affront.

Her shoulders trembled with laughter, temporarily relieved of their crushing weight, and she couldn't help but be thankful for her amazing boyfriend. A lot of people wondered how they could be together and sometimes she did too… but these little moments reminded her why she fell in love with him in the first place. People were flawed, she'd learned. It was okay to not be perfect. And Ron was very far from perfect but he did have the few bright shining qualities that outweighed the imperfections.

Merlin, she couldn't see herself doing anything near as well when he wasn't there to distract her. What a confusing paradox.

"Alright. Alright. Now that you aren't shouldering the burden of the world, where was this hostel you were thinking of?"

"Right! It's down this way, not too far. Only a mile or two. I think we can walk."

"You just don't want to conjure more money for a cab."

The witch whacked his stomach with a backhand and he staggered back with a chuckle.

* * *

Michael sighed and leant sideways in the air taking on a relaxed posture while he watched Paul flit around sniffing like a mutt. His hair was flying every which way in the wind and Michael could sort of understand why he decided not to cut it. Those were some pretty gorgeous locks. His own hair had never been too much of a big deal to him, except maybe to pick up chicks, so he'd had no problem cutting it down a bit to style it. It sat closer to his head in nice waves that could be easily styled as messy or suave.

Marko, who was sat next to him on thin air chewing on his thumbnail, had had his mullet chopped off in a rather cruel prank by Sam when the older vampire had tossed one of his comics in the ocean. That started a prank war that Paul and Michael had both joined in on that lasted two years before David grew tired of it and threatened to mutilate them. Marko had still kept the hair, though, tight ringlet curls framing his face. He had just started two side braids behind his ear in the last few years and they were only just long enough to brush his shoulder.

David had gone completely short only keeping some length up top that he could spike and Michael could definitely say it fit him. The mullet had worked as well but after it was cut off the eldest seemed even more imposing and intimidating. Dwayne, yea there was no touching that glorious mane unless you had a death wish. And Sam… Well, he'd gotten his head shaved during the Prank War in return for Markus' haircut. It was only just starting to get back to its former length, so the kid had settled on short spikes, like David, but with shorter hair on the sides of his head in the meanwhile.

It was strange to think about how they changed; their haircuts and their clothes. Though, they still stuck with mostly punk biker themes, except Sam and his dratted pastels but not even David could change his mind on that. Obviously vampires had to change with the times if they wanted to walk outside amongst the food, but he had never given it much thought until they started doing it. Before, the concept of a vampire, to him, was a body trapped in time so they looked out of place, out of time. Which was completely wrong on so many levels as he'd found out when he'd been adopted into the coven. Still, it was strange to see aspects of them change while their faces and bodies didn't.

"How long do you think he's gonna look like a hummingbird," Marko muttered with a frown.

Michael snorted. That was a pretty apt description of the punk darting to and fro above the throngs of people trying to get onto trains everywhere.

"Probably until he gives up. I think the only one that could actually follow an old scent through this would be you."

Marko's nostrils flared and he gagged before shooting a smirk over his shoulder. "I don't think I'd even want to, man. Even from up here the smell is just… ugh."

"You already ate."

"And?"

"Glutton."

"Always!"

They snickered at each other before turning back to Paul. The vampire had sifted seamlessly into the crowd and was poking around on the ground and in corners. A lot of people were giving him strange looks and skirting around him.

"He's the absolute worst at being inconspicuous."

"You can say that again."

"He's the absolute worst at being inconspicuous."

Marko shot him a look that said 'really?' and 'bitch please you aren't funny'. Michael grinned unrepentantly right back.

"Sometimes I forget you have the shittiest sense of humor out of all of us. I don't even know how you were able to form that with all of us discouraging it. You're worse than the brat and his sassy sarcasm. It's a wonder you're still alive."

"Hm. That's debatable."

"True."

"Ha!" They both looked back down at Paul who was triumphantly throwing a fist in the air standing in front of one of the ticket operators. He darted backwards and careened around a corner with unnatural grace until he was around fewer people. Then he shot up into the air while leaving a suggestion behind that he was never there in the minds of the people that saw him. "I am awesome," he crowed as he stopped in front of them.

The excitement his brother was exuding was infectious and Michael couldn't help but be just as exultant over whatever he found.

_I found the teller the girl talked to. It was hard considering they blend in so well but they guy remembers her because she looked so melancholy with some shiny new scars on her with an obvious limp._

Michael let his fangs drop at the thrill of the hunt. They had just picked up the trail.

"Let's get over to Manchester, boys!"

"Cool. Who has a map?"

Both Paul and Markus shot him a look this time. His humor was great. He had no idea why they got so annoyed.

His fangs glinted as he grinned at them.

* * *

Ron watched the furrow between his girlfriend's eyebrows grow larger and larger as time passed. Each ring of the phone seemed to last for eternity until the next arrived bringing with it a sense of dread. Hermione slammed the phone onto the metal box it belonged to and stepped out of the booth with a huff.

"I don't understand why the hotel isn't answering. I made sure there was always someone on night staff before we left!"

"They could be away from their desk doing… something."

He wasn't exactly sure what the people at hotels did besides give guests their rooms. But there had to be a reason for them not to answer the the phone. His gut clenched the more he thought about it, that uneasy feeling from before coming back full force. Ron was pretty sure that  _something_  was wrong even if he couldn't tell what. He glanced back up the stars noting the strangely bright red tinged star. He bit his lip gnawing on it almost unconsciously.

"Hermione… I think we should go back."

"What?" Her brown eyes shifted from the ground to him. They were only half focused and he just knew that she was thinking in that place he couldn't reach again.

"Go back. We should go back."

"Ron, that's over an hour away on train and we'd still need to get back to the station. Oh, Merlin," her face shifted, looking absolutely crestfallen, "if something actually has happened we wouldn't even be able to get back there in time."

"We could apparate."

"That would just place us at even more risk!"

"And if my family is in danger!? If Ginny or Fred or George are actually hurt? Isn't it worth it? They weren't able to track us at all yesterday and you used a lot more magic than just apparating."

He was almost yelling now, his hands angrily slashing through the air to get his point across. He needed her to understand. He couldn't apparate with people yet, could barely do it himself without concentrating, so she was his only hope. What if his family was in danger? They were so far away it wasn't even funny. They were worthless over here!

"I- I know, Ron. I know. I'm sorry. We… yes, we'll go back. The same alley should be safe. I have to get-" And then she devolved into muttering, patting her thigh as she'd done for the entire walk to the hostel.

Then she sucked in a sharp breath and offered her hand, her eyes burning with determination. Something about her shifted then, the air around her becoming more… steely?

"That's my girl," he grinned as he reached out, relief and eagerness and an undercurrent of dread pounding through his veins.

He never got the chance to step forward, a loud whoop slicing through the air. It sounded eerily similar to a werewolf on the hunt.

"Hey friend, been looking a while for you."

A tall blond with wild hair and a white leather jacket dropped between them a sharp grin on his face and blue eyes shining with malicious glee. Ron could feel his muscles lock in place, skin breaking into goose pimples immediately. This man was dangerous, a predator. He was the prey. Should he run? Could he run? If he didn't move would he be left alone?

Hermione's yelp startled him and the wizard cursed himself for still being such a coward. He was a bloody Gryffindor for fuck's sake!

"Get out of the way, mate, and I won't hurt you."

False bravado never sounded worse as his voice shook.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the predator in front of him because he knew as soon as he did the blonde would pounce. But he was worried about Hermione and he could see her standing off against another male. This one with wavy black hair and blue eyes almost the same shade as his. The men both looked perfectly at ease contrary to their wizard counterparts.

"Hurt me? Man, I would love to see you try," he laughed, eyes crinkling and teeth flashing.

Ron's gut clenched at the show of teeth and he had the sudden foreboding foreknowledge that he knew exactly what this guy was. Unfortunately, his wand was tucked into his back pocket and he couldn't make a move fast enough.

"Hermione, are you okay," he questioned still warily eyeing the blockage in his path. Merlin, but he wished there were more people out and about. Where had they gone? Weren't more people around only minutes ago? Even Vampires had laws to follow, right?

"Fine," she snapped. And he could hear the fear in her voice even as the curt answer seemed angry. She'd only just healed from the strange explosion at the Dursley's and now the worst case scenario seemed to be happening. She had to be majorly stressed at the moment.

"What do you want," he hissed at the same time he heard Hermione curse under her breath. Her bushy hair shifted slightly blocking the other beast's face.

"Aw don't be that way," blondie drawled, hand pulling out of the pockets of his black skin tight jeans to show in a classic surrender position bringing attention to the many chains he had hanging from his hips. The wizard didn't believe it for a moment.

Did he push for an answer? Ask about Harry and the Dursley's (because they had to be, at least, affiliated with the vampires that left the blood if they were able to track them down)? Wait for his opponent to make a move?

He didn't know. The outcomes of each of those options were frustratingly blank. He knew nothing about these guys; not if there was backup, not how they attacked, not even what kind of vampire they were. It was absolutely killing him to be this useless. He needed information to plan strategies, not being dumped headfirst into situations with impossible odds. That was more Harry's forte. Fuck.

"Hm. See we heard from a little birdy that you know where our pack mate is?"

And then there was a third one, strolling down the sidewalk with a little grin on his hufflepuff-esk face.

"Shit. What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

The littlest and newest vampire stopped a few yards away, eyeing them with amusement. His fingers fiddled with the finger-less black glove on his other hand. His jacket was garishly bright with a multitude of colors and words stitched onto it. "I guess I can explain. Maybe you'll actually tell us what we want to know. Wizards are frustratingly immune to lower levels of suggestion after all."

Ron swallowed, feeling it painfully scrape down his throat. There still wasn't enough information to act even though his fingers itched and twitched to actually  _do_  something. Impulsivity might get them killed here.

"It might," Hermione scoffed.

* * *

Marko stared at the two wizards. They were practically taught as bow strings waiting to be fired, quivering with the urge to shoot but not being able to without a clear shot. It was extremely amusing.

Paul had been so very excited when he'd picked up the scent again in the Manchester station and, lucky for them, the idiots had walked instead of taking a cab. It had made their jobs so much easier. And then they'd caught them right before they were about to leave and rain on the bloody parade Dwayne, David, and Sam were likely to be having. Distance always did mess with their mental connection so he couldn't hear anything from them but he could feel the blood rush that came from a  _party_. Tonight was going extremely well for them.

"Sure sure! See, a really long time ago there was this little kid, poor abused little orphan with no home, left behind by the only family he ever had. And one day, he finds a new family! And they take him and care for him and what happens? A nasty old magic user tears him away from his happy life and dumps him back with his abusive relatives. And wouldn't you know it, but his new family wasn't very happy and… They. Want. Him. Back."

Each word was announced harshly and slowly before he let his features shift to emphasize the last harsh syllable.

They both were staring with wide eyes, the women practically tearing up with realization slowly dawning over her face. The male on the hand, his eyes and mouth only grew harder and tighter. They probably weren't going to get anything out of that one then.

_The female is more susceptible, Michael. If we can get her to lower her guard we might be able to get more information about what's happened the last decade. Paul, keep an eye on him, he looks about ready to explode on us._

Michael shifted in acknowledgment, his face becoming softer, more understanding and human looking. Paul just grinned, shifting his stance, his arms lightly crossing over his chest to be ready for anything.

"Sorry about that," he growled, allowing his human features to slide back on. "Sometimes I just get a little emotional thinking about it. He was really precious, you know? We'd like him back."

"We don't know what you're talking about," the ginger sneered.

"Oh, but I think you do! Paul over here," the blonde gave a cheery little wave with his arms still crossed, "happened to see you walking into that forsaken house with our missing member."

"Harry is not a vampire," the wizard barked, his hands clawing as if wanting to grab something.

"Hm, no of course not. He never got the chance to finish the change. He was stolen from us."

"You," the witch started, "have no right to him. Not without him having drunk any blood before."

Marko grinned. She knew the laws. He could work with this.

"Of course, you're absolutely right my brown eyed beauty. The thing is, he did drink blood. He was half while he was with us."

Ginger looked about ready to throw an apoplectic fit, his hazel eyes burning with a holy fire. But he held his tongue at the woman spoke up in disgust. "As a child?" He turned his attention back to her. "Child vampires are forbidden!"

"But he wasn't a full vampire," Michael cut in, his lips pulling into a soft frown. "He was half so he would be safe but still be able to grow. There were no plans on turning him until he was much older."

She studied him with a gimlet eye, her entire posture screaming disbelief.

"I can show you," Marko murmured, stepping closer. He offered his hand as skin contact helped him immensely with what he was about to do if she gave in. "Memories will prove me right, you know."

He caught her doe eyes with his own and sent out a subtle suggestion, looking for cracks in her mind barrier. Most wizards had one. They had found that out the hard way. Only David was proficient enough with the mind arts to overcome a natural barrier with any ease. The rest of them had to either brute force it, which was uncomfortable for both parties as magic fought back, or they could try to slip through after getting them to lower their guard.

Right now all he needed was for her to agree. Her barriers weren't anything above natural for her power level so he highly doubted she had any training in the art and would, therefore, not feel him rooting around while he showed her his own memories.

"Get away from her!"

Paul shot forward wrapping the wizard up in a bear hug to prevent movement, with one hand covering the teen's mouth. The witch shifted but did not break his subtle compulsion to look at him. Marko smiled softly, internalizing his minor victory while his brother's watched eagerly.

"Memories?"

"That's right."

There, a crack formed of doubt. His suggestion slipped in and wrapped around her mind like a vice. She bit her lip and held out her hand. He grasped it making sure it was light but strong enough she wouldn't be able to pull away if she tried.

* * *

Paul watched the exchange curiously. He'd participated in a few brute force sessions, which he excelled in, but only David had done it with such precision and grace before. Marko was going to be a gloating little shit about this later, even if he'd needed extra contact to help him get to this point.

_I think I might set Sam on him so he doesn't stink up our guest room with his victory_ , Michael snorted.

_I'd pay to watch that. It's been awhile since he's gone after Marko and not me._

_Hm. Gimme $20 and I'll make sure it happens._

Paul sent a glare over the wizard's shoulder. They were about the same height which made holding him slightly awkward but vampires had killer strength for a reason. Prey should not be able to escape.

_I'm not actually going to pay._

_You sure about that? You know I can make it happen._

He hesitated. It had been a while since the Prank War and he was sort of itching to see something like that happen again but… if they didn't get Daniel it wouldn't be worth the hassle. David and Dwayne would be huge killjoys.

_Only if we grab Daniel._  He finally decided.  _And any consequences are gonna be on you._

Marko needed to have his ass handed to him by a little gremlin again. It had happened to him way more than he'd like and the score needed to evened.

_Done!_

For some reason the vampire felt like he'd stepped into a trap but he couldn't figure out where it had happened. A worry for another time.

_Hey, Paul. I think your magic man is gonna- Shit!_

The freckled teen had successfully pulled out his wand and it was glowing with a burning light. Paul reeled back with a pained hiss, his skin smoking and burning the longer he was exposed. All three of them retreated, flitting behind the hostel's side wall to get away from the magicked sunlight.

"Shitty fucking ow," Michael muttered, carefully prodding his face.

Marko turned and bared his fangs at Paul with and angry throaty growl. "What the fuck was that!? You were supposed to keep him restrained!"

He could vaguely hear the fuss the wizard was still causing in the street. He ignored it in favor of his brother. "I didn't even feel him reach for it! He was squirming around so much… Oh shit. Kid's smarter than I thought."

"He made every move feel like he was trying to get away when he was actually going for his wand. That's a lot smarter than some of the other wizards we've encountered," Michael agreed.

"Ugh. I wasn't finished looking! I only got about three years worth of memories… Fuck. We got complacent because it was going so well."

"When  _will_ we learn from our mistakes," Michael quipped.

They both glared at him. Paul snorted then, relaxing his shoulders and rolling them to release some tension as his burns started to slowly heal. "I'd rather not have David rip off my face or have Dwayne throw me back into the ocean so tell me you got something juicy at least."

"Well, her memories were really jumbled and there were blank spots and spots that seemed to be almost… overwritten? Dunno. But I think this Dumbledore guy is probably our best bet."

"So we have a target?"

Michael spoke up then, with a grimace, "Yea, if you guys want to go after the bastion of the Light or whatever. Remember? That guy is like Jesus to these British wizards. Long beard and garish clothes. Definite manipulative streak that can't be proven?"

"Oh right. Sanguini mentioned him before he went to that party a few years ago."

"And he's cropped up in a few memories from others," Marko groaned. "David isn't going to be happy."

Michael hummed thoughtfully, "Well, I mean we got what we came for and we were aware that they could throw sunshine in our faces so I think we did better than the way it could have gone."

"Sucks that the sunscreen potion got ruined." Marko glared daggers at Paul who chuckled nervously before coughing. It's not like he meant to knock the cauldron over. He'd been trying to get away from Dwayne so he wasn't tossed in the ocean. Fat lot of good that did him.

They all paused as the feeling of extreme victory came from Dwayne, flooding through their bond. It burned through their minds until they couldn't help but revel in it as well. He had Daniel.

 


	8. Daniel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry it's a bit short but I've got a bit of writer's block and I know ya'll want the reunion so here ya go! 
> 
> Warning for a bit of gore!!!

“As much as I enjoy our bonding GinGin. We should go.”

“You’re right dear Gred. The trace is on your wand littlest sister.”

“Aw, fuck.” Ginny sighed as she pulled back from her brother, allowing herself to just breathe for a moment. “That means everyone and their mother knows where we are, right?”

“Exactly,” they chorused with mirrored grimaces.

“Great, okay. So, how do we get away? They can track side-along apparating and I’m sure the hotel is going to be surrounded soon enough. Who knows what group is going to show up… and Merlin… all the muggles.”

The twins glanced at each other before turning to her with grim eyes. “Right now we can’t worry about the muggles. They should be fine as long as they stay out of the way… but if we try to help we put them at more risk.”

“Our best bet is to sneak out and that’s just as risky because we can’t guarantee Harry staying passed out. If he wakes up….”

Yea, Fred didn’t need to finish that sentence. Her neck twinged, phantom pains racing up and down her back at the horrifying thought.

A quick plan was hashed out and the disillusionment spell cast on all three of them before George fetched Harry, casting another Stupefy to be sure, and settling him on his back. Unfortunately, the plan never had a chance to be put into action because as soon as they opened the door there was already a boy standing there.

The witch froze. How in the world were they supposed to explain the door opening by itself?

“Obliv-”

Faster than she could follow, the kid lunged knocking one of the twins into the wall with a yelp.

“Aw man. You guys are no fun. I was going to play helpless civilian and everything. Oh well. Guess we have to do this the hard way.” 

The grin on his face implied that he would very much enjoy the hard way. Then his face shifted and Ginny’s stomach dropped to her toes. Orange red ringed eyes and glistening fangs. Her heart rate was skyrocketing again and all she could feel was the burning agony on her neck. Her eyes widened with unshed tears, seeing nothing and only feeling the pain. 

_ She was going to die! _

_ It hurt it hurt it hurt. _

_ I don’t want to hurt him! _

_ It hurt it hurt it hurt. _

_ Make it stop please! _

_ It hurt it hurt it hurt. _

“-ny! Ginny!”

Her shoulder hit the bathroom door and she fell into in a graceless tumble, her head banging against the tiled floor, neck stretching until she could feel warm wet heat again.

She cried in pain, scrambling to get up, get away.

“Lumos Solem!”

There was an unholy screech before the boy’s voice was back. “Ouch! That hurt, man!”

“Good.” That was one of the twins snarling out there.

Out there. Where she wasn’t because she was in the bathroom. Her neck ached but there were no teeth clamped there. What?

With trembling fingers, she held onto her wand best she could and poked her head out. The door to the room was open and halfway imbedded into the wall behind it. Harry was sprawled across the entryway while one of her brothers was blocking the doorway in a rigid stance, wand held loosely in his nimble fingers.

“Wha-”

The twin moved his hand up quickly, a physical wall of purple light sparkled into existence. Then finally he turned around as he faced the bathroom. Fred’s face practically melted in relief as he caught sight of her.

“Oh thank Merlin you’re alright”

“What happened,” she asked dazedly.

“You just froze and he could smell where we were. You especially because of your neck. I had to grab you and shove you out of the way.”

There was another screech and a body went flying past the doorway.

“Would you stop that!?”

“Would you die already?”

“Oh, that’s not very nice of you. Here I thought you were an upstanding citizen. Guess you are just like the rest of the trash around here.”

That meant George was out there fighting the vampire. The very young, baby-faced vampire. What in the world was going on?

A barrage of something flashed by the door.

“Hey hey hey! No need to get nasty! Stakes will only up the ante. You sure you can handle that?”

“Die.”

“Is George okay,” she asked haltingly.

Never in her life had he thought that he could sound so monotone while apparently being vicious. It was strange and Ginny most certainly didn’t like it.

“Definitely not,” Fred snorted. “He can handle himself against one blood sucker, though. Problem is… where there is one, there’s probably more.”

That sounded ominous and for a brief second she had the thought of just handing Harry over so they would leave. She squashed it immediately and with ruthless efficiency. There was no guarantee they wouldn’t hurt them even after taking Harry. And she wouldn’t hand over her friend anyway. So there.

She shook herself from her strange thoughts and glanced around to find something that might help them. Harry was still passed out, the bed would be of no use, the window… They were only on the second floor.

“I’m going to check the window, you check on George.”

“Nope. Sorry Gin. You stay here and keep an eye on our little monster while I check the window.”

A frisson of unease passed through her as she glanced at the sickly wizard. She ignored it, instead turning to righteous anger.

“I can do this Fred,” she exclaimed, hopping to stand on unsteady legs. “I’m not an invalid!”

“Whoah! Nuh-uh. To both of those. You’re not invalid, just injured and weaponless-”

“I can handle myself!”

He glanced at her neck and she cut him off before he could even open his mouth. “I was doing fine until you guys came. If you hadn’t blasted down the door-”

“You might have been dead,” he whispered furiously, eyes burning with an inner fire.

“Oh fu-”

There was a sickening crunch followed by a garbled scream. Both of them stopped and turned towards the door with wide eyes.

“George,” Fred yelped and took a step closer to his shield, his hands falling from her shoulders (when did they get there?).

Then the boy was back with a spray of blood along his lower jaw. “Hey guys,” he greeted cheerily as if they were the best of friends. “I’d sure like an invite.”

She glared, hoping even an iota of her hatred could burn him as much as it was burning her right now. He’d done something to her brother  _ -oh merlin her brother _ \- and he thought he could act like they were friends?

“Didn't think so. That’s alright. You might want to watch out. I’ve heard broken glass can really hurt.”

He was still smiling that infernal smile while she tried to process what he meant. What did glass have to do with anything? He’d just hurt - _ he definitely wasn't dead right? _ \- her brother and he was preaching about being careful? From glass?

Not a moment later, the window imploded. Most of the glass was caught by the curtains but a lot of it speared forward through the air to lash against her face, followed by a strong wind that knocked her back. Fred yelped and stumbled hitting his shield and smashing through it to land with a painful thump in the hallway.

Then a body came tumbling through, blood splattering on the carpet in its wake.

“Having fun, Sam?”

“Oh, sure. I love stakes and sunlight. Makes the party worthwhile.”

The blonde in the doorway snorted dropping right next to the possible corpse with an audible thud from his heavy combat boots. The light from outside backlighted him and reflected off the platinum hair spiked on his head. The light from the hallway illuminated his orange eyes and cruel grin. Everything else was just too dark to make out from her position on the floor.

A gurgled groan broke her out of her staring - _ why was she freezing so much today? What was wrong with her? _ \- and she scrambled over to Harry’s body, throwing herself over him.

“Stay away,” she growled, chest burning with rage and helplessness. Her wand had been knocked from her grip and was now somewhere behind her where George and the other Vampire were. She couldn’t turn away. Something deep inside her said that if she looked away from this monster she would be dead within a second. “You stay away you shit-sucker.”

“Ooooo! That sounds familiar,” the boy laughed from behind her. “Ouch! Leggo! No, bad wizard. Stay down.”

Her heart clenched. What was happening? She needed to know!

Orange eyes glinted at her as he cocked his head like a bird of prey. It seemed like he was asking her something.  _ What are you going to do? _ Testing her.  _ Save your family or your crush?  _ Mocking her.  _ In the end it won’t matter what you choose. _

“Shut up,” she screamed desperately. “Shut up shut up shut up! Leave us alone!”

“Hm. No can do.” She could barely hear him over the rush in her ears, the sound of her blood, her life, coursing through her. He knelt in front of her in a gentle parody of a lover, bringing his black leather gloved hand under her chin. She wanted to move so badly. Hit, scream, cry…

She just wanted…

His hand wrapped gently around her throat, tugging her up and away and she was helpless to follow. In the light there was another figure coming in through the window that could barely be made out. She couldn’t turn to look, instead seeing only a vague impression of dark hair and dark clothes in her peripherals. All she could do was stare at the  _ orangeorangered  _ instead _. _

* * *

 

Dwayne dropped another wizard in disgust. Laughably weak and panicky, they stood no chance against the ambush he and David had set up as soon as they’d smelt their arrival. The ones in the white masks went first. They were the ones that could - _ more like would- _ cast the more debilitating spells. Then the ones in the official looking  _ -stupid, ugly, and completely unfashionable _ \- uniform robes were next. Those could easily summon more and could be annoying.

Just when they thought they’d finished up, a few more had popped in and Dwayne was just about done with this whole mess. Why had they come here in the first place? They obviously didn’t know about the vampires or they would have been more prepared.

Whatever.

It was done now. He could finally get up to 212 to get Daniel. He could finally hold him again. Feel the bond thrumming with life instead of clinging in an almost hopeless desperate fashion.

He shook his claws out to disperse some of the blood. Normally, he’d clean his fingers with relish but wizard blood could be nauseatingly sweet in large quantities. He glanced down at the woman whose neck he’d snapped. Her orange hair glinted in the old street light and her outfit was relatively free of any mess. He leaned down and wiped his hands quickly on her frumpy knitted sweater.

Her dull blue eyes stared at him and he chuckled.

“You guys sure are arrogant, aren’t you?”

With a happy sigh he stood back up and glanced at the destroyed window David had chucked a werewolf through. Now that had been a bit of a shocker but nothing they couldn’t deal with quickly considering it was nowhere near a full moon and they had the advantage of surprise on their side.

With a quiet whisper of wind he was stepping in through the window, glancing around to take in the scene. Sam was out in the hallway practically drooling over a struggling redhead while David was holding another one, female, enthralled. Right beside them…

Dwayne breath caught in his throat and his eyes burned.

**_Daniel._ **

All at once he could feel relief, joy, triumph, and most importantly  _ the bond. _ It was right there. Feather light and struggling but the closest he’d been to touching in a decade. 

It had been so long. Too long. All he wanted was to run his fingers through the black messy hair and read him stories again. To have the little boy yawning on his lap and eyes begging for more even as they drooped.

He couldn’t have exactly that, not anymore. Dwayne wasn’t stupid he was just hopeful. Daniel would never be the same as the small boy they adopted on the beach. They had missed ten years of the most critical years of his life. But he could be their brother again. They could go out in the night and have fun and mess around.

Slowly, he lowered himself to the ground and allowed the pads of his fingers to run down the gaunt pale cheek of his little brother. It was soft and warm, just like his personality. But, oh, did his physical appearance leave something to be desired. He’d grown well with a strong jaw, and nose, and high cheekbones but that only seemed to exacerbate the hideously sunken cheeks from illness. His face was turning sallow and dark bruises took up most of the space under his eyes. He looked… starved with one foot already in the grave. Paul had warned them that the teen had already seemed ill before going into the house so that probably didn’t help his transition any. And then there was the fact that he couldn’t feel any vibrancy from him. The strangely light and happy air he’d had as a child was gone, along with the slightly sweet smell of alluring candy. Something must have happened to his magic as well.

Daniel was in very real danger of dying if they didn’t turn him soon. Would it be better to use a human or a magical? Would either be better or worse than the other?

A few loud cracks caught his attention and he couldn’t repress the snarl in his throat as his stress shot through the roof. More fucking wizards. Best to go while they could. He absolutely would not lose Daniel right after they’d finally gotten a hold of him.

“David.”

_ I know. I’ve gotten a lot of what I need from her. We can leave. _

_ But I’m hungry, _ Sam whined.  _ Aren’t you supposed to feed your children. This is neglect I say. _

_ Get a move on squirt. _

Dwayne chuckled at the disgusted look on Sam’s face at the ‘endearment’. He carefully picked up Daniel bridal style, trying not to wince at how light he was. That wasn’t normal for his height and body type.

David was quick to snap the girl’s neck with a squeeze of his hand, even going so far as to pop the skin on her neck open like a zit so her blood splattered everywhere, and Sam moved to follow with his own prey before he was blasted backwards, a yelp torn from his mouth. 

_ No time to fight back. Just get to the roof. _

_ Got it pops. _

_ You’re going to get the beating of a lifetime if you keep that up. _

When David’s sly blue eyes glanced at him he couldn’t help but laugh. Of course he was doing it purposefully. They both were; trying to alleviate his tension and bring back his earlier joy. He gave a half smile in understanding but no more than that. He wouldn’t,  _ couldn’t _ , relax until they were safe back at Sanguini’s.

They both flitted out the window, almost getting away unseen. There was a shout as they disappeared into the sky followed by a few spells that missed them entirely. Sam joined them a minute later, a silly grin on his face as he latched onto David.

_ Fly on your own you miserable little- _

_ But daddyyyy- _

_ You’re dead meat. _

Their youngest member squeaked and shot forward with David in hot pursuit. Dwayne smiled, his hands clenching his precious cargo close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose I should add the major character death tag in a little bit, huh? Hahaha... Oops. Sorry, not sorry.


	9. Cleanup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath isn't such a pretty sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned there is a Explicit Depictions of Gore. Even more so than last time. Remus is a little descriptive...

Remus groaned, pressing a hand to his neck to try and curb the burning blood from spilling. That had been… a slaughter. And if those claws had been even a millimeter to the right he would have bled out by now. Thank Merlin for his regeneration.

He grunted, searching the dark carpeted floor for his wand, wincing as his hand caught on a few stray pieces of glass. He knew plenty of charms and spells to heal the damage but doing it wandless was extremely difficult and time consuming.

"Shit."

There was no comforting rod of wood nearby.

He shifted, rolling over and closer to the bed that was highlighted by the outside streetlights. Still no wand. He huffed and focused on the hand over his throat. Slowly, the skin heated in his palm and the gash closed over enough that blood wasn't leaking like a faucet. He'd still need medical attention but it would keep for the moment.

With shaking arms he pushed himself up and glanced around unsuccessfully blinking away the black spots. His body was about ready to sleep until the next full moon but he needed to get up and check on the kids. They were the entire reason he and Molly had rushed ahead of the others… and right into a trap.

Molly had been so hysterical about her children then and he'd been so worried about Harry. And now she was…

Remus paused and took a moment to breathe deeply. Immediately, the overpowering metallic scent of blood clogged his nostrils and he gagged. The heavy malodorous perfume of death that always clung to vampires was also in the room; not strong enough to overcome the foul aroma of blood, but enough that their brief presence was definite. They hadn't just tossed him in here; they'd followed him.

Immediately, his mind jumped to the worst case scenario.

The kids...

"Ginny? Ron? Hermione? Harry?"

His voice was raspy and weak so he cleared his throat, ignoring the painful tugging of his injury, and tried again with no results. With more effort than it should have taken, he pulled himself forward getting his legs under him before standing shakily.

The curtains fluttered behind him, a small breeze shifting against his neck cooling his sweat and blood, and the moonlight slithered further into the room briefly illuminating pale toes behind the end of the bed.

He choked and stumbled forward almost tripping over his feet in his hurry. The body was still, a lump almost indistinguishable in the darkness between the wall and the bed, and his stomach roiled at the overwhelmingly powerful scent. He'd found the source of the blood.

"No, no, no, no."

A light formed at his fingertips with hardly a thought and Remus regretted it the moment he took in the pale blood streaked girl on the floor.

"Ginny? Ginny?"

Her hair covered her face in a red shroud amplifying the jagged mess of her throat. The flesh was puckered and swollen, split in multiple weeping areas that trailed deep viscous red between the new grooves and chasms of her neck into the ever expanding pool on the floor. Deep purpling bruises were already formed over her throat, hardly hidden by any blood and Remus had an idea of what had happened. It made the nausea abruptly force his stomach's contents into his throat. He struggled to force the burning acid back down before it fell from his between his lips.

This much blood and the absolute crushed mess of her trachea… She never stood a chance.

"Oh Ginny. No, no. Oh no…"

Remus crouched over her, gently brushing her hair from her face with a shaking hand. Her eyes were wide and terrified, lips parted as if struggling to breathe, and it shattered his heart. Her death was not quick enough.

The kids weren't supposed to be caught up in this.

There was a faint sob from the hallway and Remus stiffened, slowly standing and turning to peer around the wall at the door. He lifted his nose for a few good whiffs trying to sift through the overpowering metallic scent lingering in a heavy cloud. Ginny's was very pungent, and his own certainly wasn't helping, but there was something familiar about the smells outside. It was on the tip of his tongue. He knew it…

A few steps closer, only a yard away, he heard another sob and a name.

He wasted no time in hurrying outside into the hall.

One twin was face down on the floor, the other crying over his brother as he weaved his wand around the boy's midsection, chanting under his breath.

"Fred, George. Oh Merlin."

The Weasley only looked up briefly when Remus dropped to his knees on the other side of the body. He couldn't help but stare in shocked silence at the horrific sight.

The Weasley's cheek had two long gouges, one going all the way into his hairline where it split his ear in two. They were deep enough that it almost tore the flesh completely from his face. White bone was clearly visible along with with the yellow fat layer as the skin sagged down, pulling his lips and eye down on the injured side. Despite how gruesome it was and how painful it had to be, he never stopped his chanting. With every moment that he mumbled, blood would bead in sections of the rent tissue before they grew too large and rolled down the flap of skin where it pooled in the lower, smaller laceration before overflowing to cover his chin and neck like a morbid crimson fountain.

Remus swallowed harshly and tore his eyes away. Besides the bleeding the wound was not life threatening and could be fixed easily enough. Whatever was wrong with the other Weasley -George he was assuming by the missing ear- semed more dire.

He listened to what Fred was trying to cast, focusing on the words to block everything else from his mind. It took only a moment to figure out it was a powerful healing spell to put a critically injured patient into stasis. It took another to figure out his spell wasn't working. There were only two reasons for that…

"Fred," he croaked. "Fred. Your brother…"

The red head looked up with burning blue eyes and snarled, face twisting gruesomely , "He is not dead."

"Let me have your wand. Let me… Mine is missing. Let me try."

There was a brief moment of staring, Fred's rage and grief swirling almost visibly around him, before he roughly thrust out his arm.

The werewolf gently took the rod of wood, feeling the same burning energy of its owner searing into his hand, and started the spell. Healing he could do. It had become his forte after many moons of practice on himself. If George was still alive he  _would_  be saving the boy unlike Ginny and Harry…

* * *

Ron and Hermione arrived to chaos. There were bodies spread everywhere each with its own morbid spread of red surrounding it.

They both paused incredulously and Ron's hand clutched at his girlfriend's tightly as his stomach roiled. Something had happened. He'd been right. Fuck.

"Oh Merlin w-wha-" Her voice choked off as a few more cracks signified the arrival of more wizarding folk. Not a moment later, two figures jumped from the second story, taking off into the air with no assistance.

Ron was not the most observant person but even he caught the pale figure clutched in one of their arms. His wand was out and firing curses before he even realized what he'd done. The raw power behind each curse left him aching and feeling empty even as he cast and cast and cast. But nothing he did mattered, as the two was joined by a third and they disappeared into the inky depths of the sky.

The wizard screamed, rage tearing at his vocals until a hand clenched tightly on his shoulder turned his attention back to Hermione.

He took a moment to observe her drooped shoulders and the wand clutched loosely in her hand. Her eyes were staring at something on the pavement and his gut clenched again, threatening to send his dinner right back up. He didn't want to look. He knew…

As if magnetized, the wizard's blue eyes turned to the splash of orangish red highlighted under street light. Staring back at him were the same wide blue, red streaks decorating her cheeks like macabre tattoos.

Ron puked.

* * *

Hermione was just coherent enough to store each scene away for further analysis while she focused on getting her boyfriend to settle. It was shock. It had to be. She would not be so calm otherwise.

Not for the first time, she forced her logic to take hold and dictate her actions. No matter how much she wanted, needed, to soothe Ron and be held in his arms there were more important things to be done. Obviously, from the amount of adult wizards here, underage magic had been cast. Ginny probably needed help and healing. Afterwards, Mrs. Weasley and all the others could be taken care of.

"We need to check on Ginny," she murmured, stroking Ron's back one more time.

"Bloody hell…"

She was actually impressed with how white he could get in his terror. Where did all the blood go?

A brief flash of the surrounding area reminded her she didn't want to know. As long as it was inside his body where it belonged everything was okay.

"Can you stand?"

 _Without puking,_  was implied.

"I- bloody… Yea. We need to-Ginny is in the room still."

"Let's go."

Ron straightened but they didn't get more than two steps before more cracks resounded and even more Order members were taking in the scene. It was Tonk's, who'd arrived with the first bunch, who noticed them and rushed over.

"Wotcher! Where've you been!? Do you know how bonkers the Order's been looking for you guys?"

Hermione pursed her lips. Oh, she had an idea.

There was an aggrieved cry that cut off any answer either of them could have given. Mr. Weasley dropped to his knees beside his wife his sobs loud and long as he gently brushed her hair behind her ear.

"We need to go."

"Uh I don't think so," Tonks exclaimed as a few Order member glanced their way. For some reason she was extremely glad that Dumbledore wasn't amongst their numbers. Seeing him might have set her at ease once but lately… Something was wrong, especially after all of the memories she'd been shown of a young Harry. Her head was constantly pounding but it was easily enough ignored if she focused on the task at hand. Which was finding Ginny and not thinking on thoughts that could be pondered over later.

"Ginny is inside. Come if you want but we need to go."

She marched forward, Ron not even a step behind her. They both ignored the indignant 'Oi!' as they brushed past the metamorphmagus.

* * *

George was finally stable and Fred allowed himself to relax only slightly. He'd saved his brother.

 _No, you didn't,_  an insidious voice whispered. _If Remus hadn't shown up George would be dead._

He let out a shuddering breath, feeling the same dry burning behind his eyes from earlier. He'd seen-watched…

Oh Merlin.

He was such a screw up. He couldn't even protect his little sister or save his own brother. What use was he? None. None at all. Worthless.

The air in his lungs hiccuped on the way out.

"Fred…"

No. He didn't want to hear platitudes. Especially not from the soft spoken werewolf. He should have done better, been better. He was taken out by one leech. One. There were other things he could have done. Solem Maxima. Summoned flowing water. Anything other than what he did. Failed.

"We need… to get him back. The shop has… potions. Ginny needs to be-"

He couldn't even finish, his throat closing at the thought of her. How her blood was as red as her hair when that damned vampire-

He blinked away the wavering in his vision.

"Fred you need medical-"

"George is more important."

There was a pause followed by a sigh. "I'm sure your brother would be very upset if he found out you died from blood loss because you were being stubborn. At least let me seal the gash on your face."

Maybe he deserved it. The pain every time he even twitched. He wouldn't, couldn't wish for death. He couldn't do that to Georgie or the rest of his family. But pain? Oh, he would suffer that in spades for what he allowed to happen.

"Stop the bleeding then. Anything else can wait."

"Fred…"

He turned burning eyes onto the blood soaked wizard across from him. He would never know what it was like! He wouldn't feel the crushing grief of watching your sister- not being able to save his brother- being useless- He wouldn't know. He didn't want to hear anything from the man. Didn't want… the logic. He just wanted…

Fred's blues eyes turned down onto his fallen brother. He'd been flipped onto his back after being put into stasis and Remus had done a fairly good job making sure his organs were back in the right place. The gash on his belly was still there and gaping but he wasn't bleeding anymore even if his pale face was extremely worrying.

The wizard ran his fingers over his mirror image's freckled cheek. "It's ok Georgie. It's gonna be o-ok. I won't-won't let this happen a-again. I swear it."

His lip trembled briefly before Fred bit it harshly. There was no time for that.

"Professor Lupin!"

"Fred! George!"

His head shot up to catch Ron and Hermione shoving through the stairwell door. Ron was startling pale as well and Fred had a moment of worry, scanning his little brother for visible injuries. There was nothing. And yet his gut still clenched and his stomach roiled at being unable to help. To be there for his family.

"Oh Merlin, George!"

Ron's eyes were wide enough to pop out of his skull as he sprinted down the hall full tilt. His knees hit the floor hard and he hovered over George, hands quivering as if wanting to touch, to fix.

"He's stable right now," Remus coughed shifting until he was standing again, posture hunched and tired.

"Where's Ginny," the youngest Weasley demanded staring up at Fred.

And Fred couldn't answer. His throat closed and his lungs constricted.

He saw flashes of red and yellow. Heard a sickening crunch.

He couldn't. He couldn't.

"Ron…"

Hermione cut in, reaching out a hand to balance herself -or perhaps stabilise her boyfriend, Fred couldn't tell- on Ron's shoulder. "Where is she? Just… Just tell us."

You could hear it in her voice. She'd already guessed something had happened. But Hermione would not be their lovable Gryffindor Bookworm if she wasn't determined to see things through. Ron, being more perceptive than usual, shook his head, sobs falling from his lips. "No! No, no, no! She was supposed to be safe! They couldn't have known! They couldn't have found her! Something must have tipped them off!"

His heart skipped a few beats listening to the broken rasp of his little brother. He hadn't done anything right. Just another screw up. Mum was going to chew his ear off and then some.

* * *

Tonks had been expecting to find the kids holed up in a hotel room somewhere and while she wasn't wrong… this was not anything she wanted to see. Ginny casting with her wand could have been a mistake, not a sign of her being in danger. That's what she'd hoped it would be. Don't get her wrong, Tonks knew the kids could be smart but once you came to rely on magic it was hard to not use it. She would know from muggle stakeouts as an auror.

So when Molly suggested something was wrong, she didn't want to believe it. Neither did the others. Except, Remus wouldn't allow her to run ahead by herself while everyone else got ready just in case. Constant vigilance and all that rot. And blimey did she admire that man and his ideals -even if he could be a bit of a cowards sometimes-.

Wait. She was getting sidetracked again.

She bit her lip, worrying it with her teeth as she followed behind Ron and Hermione into the hotel. Everything was pretty normal except the receptionist that completely ignored them. That… was strange considering their rumpled appearance but they were muggles so who knew for sure with them.

Something else to focus on besides the bloody morbid scene outside at least.

As the two teens rushed ahead, Tonks stumbled after them yanking her wand out of it's holster. She was the Auror here! She was supposed to be doing the leading.

"Oi, bloody hell! You can't just charge in! Wait a bloody sec!"

Of course they didn't. Tonks always had all the luck.

She followed them up to the second floor doing her damndest not to trip on the steps. As much as she loved being a metamorphmagus it sure was inconvenient at the most inopportune times. Finally, she caught up to the right as they were pushing the door open. And cor' blimey that scene did not fill one with hope.

The younger Weasley was already sprinting over to Remus and his downed brother lying on the floor with a right nasty laceration in his belly. Hermione was quick to follow and she started after them a little slower. She scanned the hallway with a spell and picked up several traces of blood and magic use all over. At the very far end of the wall stakes were embedded in the wood which came from the missing pieces of carpet under her shoes. There were splatters of blood belonging to a human wizard and a vampire. Scorch were scattered up and down the hall. And the scan gave back unmoving heat signatures in some of the rooms which meant there were people here… except they hadn't come out. That was… really strange. Muggles were very nosy as she'd found out from personal experience. Why were these ones not doing anything. She didn't imagine a battle would be quiet.

She tuned into their conversation absentmindedly, still mulling over the feedback from her magic. Until Ron said something that sounded off.

"Wait," she barked. "You knew these vampires were coming?"

The Weasley didn't answer, seemingly lost in his anger and grief as he sobbed over his brother. Granger turned to her instead, eyes dark and somber. "We knew."

Nymphadora Tonks found herself at a loss for words. Thank goodness for Remus who cut in, tone firm, "Then what were you thinking? What happened here could have been avoided-"

"You don't understand how bad Harry was." Her tone was quiet but no less hard. "He would have severely injured himself or possibly even died trying to get to that house by himself. I've never seen him like that before and it scared me."

"Was it worth it?"

As soon as the words left her mouth she wanted to bite her tongue off. George was out of commission and from the lack of the Weasley daughter something terrible had happened. And she just had to go and mouth off.

Three sets of furious eyes turned to her.

"How fuckin dare you," Ron snorted. "How fucking dare you think we don't care for our friend's health! You think we wanted this!?"

He lumbered to his feet, arms hanging heavily at his sides and Tonks clutched her wand. She didn't want to but she would put him down for his own safety right now if needed.

"Ron-"

He brushed off his girlfriend's hand and took two steps forward, eyes turning to smoldering ice chips set into his ashen face. "You think we wanted the fuckin' blood leeches to hurt my family? We came for Harry," he roared. "We came because no one else in the Order was doing a Merlin damned thing to help him! No one ever does! No one listens! Not to him! Not to me! Not even to Hermione! And you know what that's gotten us time and fucking time again!? Nothing! Nothing but heartbreak and pain and taking care of ourselves because the Wizarding World is a rotting cesspool of cowardly adults that leave everything to bloody children while they stick their heads in the sand!"

"Ron please-"

"Say a word Lupin," Ron growled as he whipped around. "You're no better than all the others. You're a bloody fucking coward and it's no wonder that Harry never confided in you. Only Sirius listened and that man was half-mad and unable to anything because of the bloody chains that Dumbledore wrapped him in nice and neat. So no," his head turned over his shoulder to stare her down again. "No, it was not worth it. No, I don't want any of my family to be hurt, but fuck if you guys were willing to do anything. At least we tried and look where that got us," he laughed mirthlessly. "At least we were more useful than you lot."

Her stomach twisted in knots. Was that really what they thought?

* * *

When the group arrived back outside, the Order members couldn't help but stare at the solemn faces of the Weasley clan. Arthur was once again stricken by uncontrollable grief at the sight of his daughter's body. Fred almost dropped his brother when he saw his mother and Ron stood, face hardened, next to his girlfriend.

Each of them had their own thoughts on the situation, most slinging blame every which way.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away a group of vampires were carefully watching their host diagnose their lost brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was late guys! I wasn't having a great time with this chapter but I looked back on all your comments and they give me the motivation to keep going. I wasn't expecting to get so in depth with this (even though it's really not... I think I'm just dragging it out but I didn't want to cop out after I was so proud of the prequel). I hope you still are enjoying!


	10. Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much more turbulent turning than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I want to apologize for the lateness. I have been very sick lately. It's bad enough that I had to call off work several day. I really wanted to get this chapter out though and I'm not perfectly happy with it but I hope ya'll still like it!

Sanguini hummed while running his eyes over the boy. He was extremely malnourished and the turning hadn’t helped at all. It was miraculous that he was still alive, if he were to be honest. Not that he’d tell the boys, they might throw a hissy fit or panic and while entertaining as they could be… this was too important to mess up.

“Vită,” he called.

The large well, groomed man in the corner turned his head. “Yes, my lord?”

“Fetch Aveline.”

The blood slave turned without a word and exited the room. Six pairs of eyes watched him go while Sanguini focused on the boy again. Thankfully, he was the most skilled vampire in Bonds on this side of the world. Unfortunately, like any vampire, he had no magic which made a diagnosis a bit more difficult considering he couldn’t just scan the fledgling like a healer and he couldn’t asses his bonds without a possible risk. Aveline would have to give him the go ahead before he tried anything.

“So,” David drawled from his place at the head of the bed they had dragged into their common room. “What exactly are we waiting for?”

Sanguini looked up, red eyes flashing in amusement. “So impatient. We are waiting for the magical healer I keep on staff. Aveline is quite practiced and I need her affirmation that me assessing him will not complicate his condition further.”

“And you didn’t have her ready earlier?”

Ah, the surly dark skinned boy that was currently pacing on the other side of the room. The most anxious of the coven to have their fledgling back. He likely had a different form of bond with the Potter boy forming before the child had been kidnapped.

“I did not expect there to be magical interference, no. And from what I remember of it’s taste, it’s most certainly not his own.”

“Man, I wish I could taste magical auras. That would be so much cooler,” the youngest whined, shifting on his corner of the couch.

“Shut it,” his elder blood brother snapped. “At least you have something.”

“Aw, don’t be like that Mikey,” the cherubic one sniggered, kicking his leg into Michael’s shoulder so he was slammed into his younger brother.

“Yea, don’t be like that Mikey!” The tall blond peered over from his sitting position (partially raising himself off the ground) behind the couch with a snarky grin.

He chuckled when a mini fight started again. They were quite the energetic coven. It was refreshing compared to all the politicking he had to deal with on a daily basis. The old codgers on the council were still giving him hell about hosting them, too, which was rather annoying. There was nothing inferior about their sub species of vampire just as there was nothing superior about Sanguini’s own. They all had their strengths and weaknesses and honestly the ‘magical’ (a fraudulent name considering they had no magic, only their ‘gifted’ abilities) convents could use more of David’s kind around. They had a much higher magical resistance and that was extremely useful in certain situations.

David snapped at his brothers and they all quieted again.

Perhaps Sanguini should look into getting some fledglings of his own, if only for their entertainment value.

Not a moment after that thought, the door opened and Aveline strode in, head bowed as was proper.

“Aveline, my dear. How wonderful of you to make such good time. Come. This boy needs a full scan… His state is rather fragile so be delicate.”

She nodded her head in acquiesce and knelt beside the bed, her ring glowing with a soothing blue light. He kept a careful eye on his guests while this happened and noted the tension raise significantly when she went near the boy.

It was also quite admirable how protective they were of each other. A telepathic bond between coven members; how delightful that would have been when he had been turned. To know what your Sire or siblings were thinking… Would have saved him quite the hassle a few centuries later.

It was unfortunate most of their kind consisted of muggles. Perhaps they’d be better received if they had more magicals amongst their numbers. Them and the ‘sharks’ -as they’d been deemed- were a lot more powerful than he’d been led to believe. Which meant Sanguini was going to have to check out their own society for himself once this whole ordeal was over with. Perhaps David would even be so kind as to host him for a bit…

Avenline looked up and waved her free hand, sending the results into the air in a flair of sparkling green words. Sanguini tsked, reading the old latin quickly with a growing knot of dread in his chest.

“Well, boys we have some work cut out for us,” he murmured softly. All of them shifted closer and David was the one who asked what he meant. “His chart is not looking good. He has had repeated magical overloads, presumably trying to return to the previous state it had become accustomed to. To stop those… a knotwork of celtic runes that drains his magic once it reaches a certain point but it looks like they were recently corrupted and they’ve drained him completely dry. Those runes will have to be cleansed and erased before I can even go near him. Besides that he’s extremely malnourished and has suffered several near fatal injuries.”

A chorus of snarls filled the room and Sanguini watched as Aveline’s pupils dilated in fear, though she made no other move. A pitiful creature she was. He’d have eaten her long before then if she wasn’t so good at her craft.

“Best to move quickly. Aveline go with some vită and prepare the ritual chamber for a cleansing.”

She bowed again, showing her slender neck and the thin black collar that marked her as untouchable, before standing up and bustling away in haste.

He turned back to the room of boys, their eyes watching his every move. “It should only take a few minutes to prepare, then we’ll have to move him again. Once the ritual is done I can look him over before we move onto his turning. Do you have any questions for me?”

* * *

 

“Yea, I do.” Dwayne growled, eyes flashing orange briefly in his irritation. “What magic was on him? I’m sure the scan picked it up.”

“I’d be willing to bet it was magical Jesus,” Michael murmured.

“Magical… Jesus,” Sanguini asked, his brow dipping in confusion.

Marko laughed, shoving himself upwards and reclaiming his foot from Michael in the process. “He means Dumbledore. Those warnings you gave us have some real weight behind them after some of the things I’ve seen.”

Dwayne frowned at his brother, remembering the brief flashes of the important memories he’d shared. They were just as patchy as that redhead’s that David had killed. Dumbledore seemed to be a very dangerous manipulator and he’d gotten his claws into their Daniel. It was unforgivable.

“Well, you are not incorrect, young Michael. It is certainly Dumbledore’s signature but… there is something more malicious tied to him as well. Something I have only heard of in stories. Let us hope it is not what I think it is…”

Sam, who’d wiggled out from underneath his brother -Michael had decided that he was perfectly content crushing Sam and stayed lounging there- stood up and froze. His blue eyes turned to Sanguini and through their link every single vampire felt the tang of fear from the Elder.

Dwayne, who was going to ask about it, kept his mouth shut instead. Whatever could frighten a vampire of this age was not something to be trifled with. He turned his dark gaze to his little brother, laying there on the bed looking small and sickly. His chest ached.

* * *

 

David glared at the stone walls, listening to the muffled chanting. It was irritating that he couldn’t be in there watching. He didn’t give a fuck about the ritual itself, that was more Dwayne or Marko’s shindig, but he did actually care about Daniel and the spider silk thread bond that was barely tying him to them. It had gotten even weaker since the whole thing had begun and he was starting to gnash his teeth in lieu of smoking.

The voices crescendoed before stopping and finally the Elder vampire stepped out, face more drawn and pale than usual.

“It is complete. Come.”

They all shuffled after their host into the stone chamber noting the fallen blood cattle and the ones still standing up against the walls quietly. David was the first to see the half melted altar table in the middle with Daniel. He looked so small and vulnerable and not in the cute way he used to come off as when he was a kid. No, this was even worse. He was almost skin and bones, cheeks and eyes sunken, and hair so thin it looked like it had been falling out. He hadn’t even looked this bad before he’d gone in! What the fuck had happened?

Sanguini, noting the fury in their gazes, started to calmly explain in a hoarse voice, “His magic, once free to recover was not as drained as previously thought, instead it had been more restrained. It lashed out and killed those on the floor, ripping their magical cores from them and consuming them. We had to place a reflecting barrier to finish erasing the runes inscribed on his bones. So his magic turned to cannibalizing his own body. If you wish to turn him you must do so now. I fear he will not survive the hour at this rate.”

Every single one of the Lost Boys panicked. Not outwardly of course, except maybe Sam -who was affected the worst- who smooshed himself into Michael’s side since he wasn’t next to his Sire. David could feel their reverberating thoughts pounding in his head.

_‘They’d worked so fucking hard! They couldn’t lose him- couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t. They were so close! Not now!’_

With a snarl he slammed up his mental barriers so he could focus and stalked over to the altar, feeling a tingle that signified he’d probably passed the barrier. There was immediate scorching heat that settled around him and David paused, feeling the animalistic hunger like a shroud. It was swirling around him, gnawing at his skin ready to strike.

The aura pressed around his shoulders, constricting his muscles, locking him place. David choked thrashing against the presence but, for all his effort, only managed to shiver. Shit, the kid got strong. He remembered the feel of the magic, the soft press of it against his skin when Daniel was training on lifting objects. But this? This monstrosity was nothing like that happy little breeze. It was an animalistic rage in its purest form blistering his skin, a bottomless hunger that away at him slowly but was never satisfied, a deep yearning for the lost-

David latched onto that last feeling and grit out, “Are you really gonna hurt me, brat?”

It swirled away, leaving David gasping for breath like he hadn’t needed since he’d been turned. The Lost Boy knew it wasn’t gone though. He could feel it eating at the air, scrutinizing him, weighing his word and voice.

With careful hesitance, David poured his memories of their time together down the strand hoping it wouldn’t snap under the pressure. It didn’t. Instead, it seemed to devour the impressions from years ago desperate for more. Actually, no. It _was_ desperate for more. He could _feel_ it in the air and through the bond. The bond which was strengthened into a thread like thickness.

David turned to his boys, letting down his barrier. He felt their panic and worry wash over and through him and he, in turn, gave live feedback of what he was feeling through the barrier and what he needed from them. He could see their lips move but he could only hear their words in his head. The magic surrounding him, or maybe it was the barrier, had dampened sound to an incredible degree and for a second David was thrown off by the impairment. It wasn’t something he thought he’d ever encounter but for now he had more important things to worry about.

With the boys feeding him their own memories he sent it through the bond _feeling_ as it strengthened through each one, growing thicker by the second. It was… euphoric to feel the gnawing fade, the rage cool, the longing satisfied. The air grew lighter but something else replaced it. Something David was all too aware of.

Bloodlust, the sheer thirst that rasped the throat and destroyed one’s focus until all they could think about was slaking the craving and easing the symptoms.

Daniel needed blood.

_‘Sanguini says he still has that voided bond with Max, more than likely because his magic is trying to hold onto it even if nothing is there. It’s gonna take more blood to turn him than usual.’_

David sent his acknowledgment to Dwayne, trying to ignore the irritation of _Max_ still persisting, and stepped over to his little brother carefully. In a way, he was still his brother but soon he’d become his Childe, just like Sam. Then they’d all be together like they were supposed to from the beginning.

He could feel Michael’s sincere regret for a single moment and he glanced over flashing in fangs in reproach. They’d already had this discussion and they all forgave Michael for the fuss he caused. It got rid of Star and Max in the process so it was completely worth it.

With that out of the way, David turned his focus back onto the gaunt teen on the altar. He sliced his wrist with a claw and held it over his pale lips. A drop fell, followed by another, and another all pooling in the crevice of lips, a sultry red against the startling white.

It was only when David was beginning to worry about the brat’s stillness that Daniel shot up, fangs sinking into his arms, hands clamping on his forearm to keep him in place. The drain was felt almost immediately, a tickle forming in the back of the blondes throat as his own hunger started to form. Unlike his changing of Sam, David could feel the turning as it swept through Daniel’s body, revitalizing atrophied muscles and repairing weakened bones. But he could tell even now, that he didn’t have enough which was astonishing. A normal turning took only a drop of blood or perhaps a mouthful or two for the sick. Their little brother was going to drain him dry and he didn’t know if he’d have enough to override Max’s hold on the boy’s magic.

Fuck.

He turned his gaze to his brother’s and Dwayne frowned heavily at the information. The Native American turned to Sanguini who blinked. Then their host motioned to David, his lips moving but still lacking sound, and the few blood cattle left shuffled forward one by one. As soon as the first one crossed the barrier, they fell gasping for air and dying only a second later. Well, that was inconvenient.

The second and third suffered the same fate and David was getting just a tad desperate. He didn’t exactly want to be drained dry but he just   _knew_ if he stopped Daniel’s magic would overwrite his blood. It was an instinctive feeling, knowledge that he certainly didn’t have before rattling around in his brain.

He tsked, clenching one gloved hand, and turned to his boys again. One of them would have to cross the barrier and drag the bodies to him for feeding. Almost all of them perked, except for Sam and Michael who seemed a bit wary considering they didn’t have as much of stake in this, but Dwayne was the one that stepped forward before Paul or Marko could.

He took a few long strides into the barrier and stumbled to a stop, going through the same thing David had earlier.

“Little brother…”

It sounded garbled, as if underwater even though Dwayne had spoken normally. So it wasn’t just the barrier but Daniel’s magic silencing the area. That was interesting. Was his magic an actual physical presence? It had certainly frozen David by holding him in place and it was muffling sound like a heavy blanket. Something to think about another time, perhaps.

Seeming to recognize another of his brothers, Daniel’s magic allowed Dwayne passage instead of death and the brunette grabbed the three bodies on the floor and dragged them over. The first one, David couldn’t drain fast enough. Even with his blood slightly restored, it wasn’t enough though. He was still being drained heavily and now it came with the very strange feeling of the blood flowing through him instead of settling where it was supposed to be. So, he grabbed up another body and drained. Then he grabbed up the third.

“Fuck,” he muttered with a wince. “Come on, little brother. At this rate you won’t even have a Sire.”

“David.”

The blonde looked at his brother’s offered arm and frowned. He knew what and why he was offering but Daniel’s turning was already at risk. Fucking brat was so greedy though…

“Ah, shit. What the fuck. We can co-parent,” David snickered caustically. Dwayne shot him a glare and quite the few nasty expletives over the link. David just snorted, a bit more humorous than before, and brought his brothers arm up to bite.

After drinking a few mouthfuls of Dwayne’s blood, David felt the connection crackle before finally snapping into place. There was a vague cheer in the background and the blonde leader couldn’t help but agree. Ten years and one long ass turning and Daniel was finally theirs again.

Gently, he pried the teen off of his wrist and backed away with a wince when it didn’t even start to heal. He was probably going to have to ask Sanguini for a few more vită than he’d thought… ugh, more favors to repay.

* * *

 

Dwayne could feel the thrumming of the bond in his head and chest. It was making him slightly euphoric as he very slowly made his way closer to Daniel so he could clean up the blood making a mess of his face. Already he looked so much better. There was the flush of a new feed beneath his plump cheeks and his skin had lost its waxen sheen.

He was only half vampire again technically considering he hadn’t had human blood just yet, but he’d certainly drained enough from David to be considered a gluttonous serving of blood. Now just remained the task of his first true feeding when he awoke.

Dwayne gently closed the teen’s half open mouth, noting the fangs were still there, and started wiping the blood from his lips with his thumb.

He glanced at the celebrating boys behind him and David standing off to the side.

The magic that had still been shrouding the area was back to what he remembered a decade ago; a warm breeze that gently brushed his skin in familiarity. It was a relief compared to the almost starved buzzing it had been against his skin before. That had been a slightly terrifying moment but Daniel was too important and he trusted the bond they shared that his magic was trying so desperately to hold onto.

But now...

Everything was going to be okay now.


	11. Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a little lost while everyone else is finding their way.

Sanguini kept a careful watch on his guests, watching their meetings and how they doted on the boy still asleep on the couch. Dwayne was the one that sat with him the most, carding his fingers through his hair, murmuring to him on occasion or reading from a muggle series he’d seen a few times before. Paul would sit on the floor in front of the couch, his music box playing next to him as he ‘introduced’ the boy to the new age tunes. Marko would sit quietly and sew patches onto a black jacket already exploding with color. Michael usually had Sam at his side as they went over funny stories that had happened in the last decade. David… David would sit across the room and meditate trying to strengthen their bonds and draw the sleeping boy back to the waking world.

None of them could figure out why he’d yet to wake but they were getting progressively unhappy about the situation. Not that there was anything to be done but wait for the maddening enigma to awake.

Harry Potter, or Daniel as the boys knew him, was quite the conundrum. A halfling with magic that was more than likely going to keep his magic through the turning if what he’d seen so far was correct. Max had played a dangerous game with the little one but it was possible the experiment might be a success and if it was… it would have dangerous implications for the future. That power could easily be abused, especially in the councils.

Daniel was a special child. His Boy-Who-Lived status notwithstanding, he had a tie to the Dark Lord through the scar on his forehead, a childe bond with a vampire that used to be his ‘brother’, a very rare soul bond with the Native American, and was covered in malicious, roiling, energy that would normally be undetectable to any other. Someties, Sanguini cursed his Gift because this… this was dangerous and not something he wanted to be dealing with. But if he left it alone… they could all be wiped out in the near future.

His red eyes turned back to the Grimoire that had been gifted to him from the Black family so many centuries ago. His sharp nail stroked down the page detailing the illness the halfling was suffering. And if he was caught in the web… there no doubt was many others around him as well.

Based on Marko’s report, at least the boy’s friends were already compromised and there could be so many more with how far the influence could spread. Sanguini could only hope that it hadn’t left the country yet or there very well could be another World War on their hands. A Civil War was already bad enough, he did not want to see another Grindelwald. They’d been lucky so far that Voldemort had kept his dealing  mostly in-house, preferring to take over Britannia before possibly moving onto to other places. He hadn’t even turned to the Higher Councils yet either, preferring to settle with those whom came to him or those that did not have their own structure, like the wretched wolves.

With a careful sigh, he closed the book locking it again so no one could access it. He had a very bad feeling about what could be coming. The question was… who did he tell of his worries?

* * *

 

Harry hummed, wiping the blood from his lips as he turned to answer Ron’s question. David snorted at his response, sitting where his friend had been just moments before.

* * *

 

Ron sat brooding in the room he and Harry had occupied at Grimmauld Place. It wasn’t his room. He would _never_ call it his room again because he didn’t belong here. Not with these people.

The Order had done them wrong. Had _been_ doing them wrong for many years. They were kids, yes, and they weren’t supposed to be fighting but hiding everything and trying to coddle them had only backlashed. Now his sister and his mother was dead, his brother was in a coma, and his best friend was in the claws of murderers. It was _his fault ~~but it wasn’t~~._

And they still wouldn’t tell them _anything_ . No, instead the noose of restrictions only tightened around their necks and they were confined separately to keep from anymore _foolish adventures_ _._ Obviously these people didn’t learn from their mistakes. They only followed the lead sheep right over the cliff dragging the ‘children’ with them. Ron would rather die on his terms. He didn’t want to take the plunge with the idiots that couldn’t even pull their heads from their own asses. He _wanted_ to be out there planning and getting his friend back. He _wanted_ to go back to the easy days of first year when all they had to worry about was whether Snape was trying to steal the stone and their bloody potions essays. He _wanted_ to have all his loved ones back together and happy.

But when does the world ever give you what you want?

No… He would just have to _take_ it. _Take_ what he wanted because nothing was ever given easily to Ron Weasley (except his beautiful girlfriend and his best friend that he should pay much more attention to honestly).

He knew he was a prat with temper issues. He knew he wasn’t booksmart or witty. He _knew_ his faults because they’d been pointed out to him and he was working on them. So, if he could work on himself, then he could certainly work on the world; if not the whole world then at least his own.

Ron Weasley was determined to ~~_take on the world_~~ save his world.

* * *

 

Hermione handed him another book. He grinned at her, checking the title. _The Hobbit_ _._

He gasped in delight and thanked Dwayne profusely.

* * *

 

Hermione gently closed the cover of _The Two Towers_ and placed it on her bed. She glanced at the empty bed next to her and couldn’t help but sob again uselessly. She’d been trying so hard to stop but dammit now that there was nothing life threatening her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. In the last week almost all she had been doing was crying and she just couldn’t _stop_.

In the beginning she had gone over the details of those nights over and over and over; the memories she’d been shown, the precautions they could have taken, the details they could have changed, the difference in tactics the vampires had used for each confrontation. There was so much to think on and speculate that it had been easy to distract herself.

Staying locked up in a room by herself had done horrid things. If she’d just have someone to talk to, Ron or Fred, she could throw around her theories, get feedback. But she was alone (On time out! The indignity!) with her food delivered magically. Every so often she’d hear voices by the door and she always held her breath, waiting, hoping that someone would come in so she could _talk to them_ _._ No one ever did. It hurt more than she was expecting.

And she was getting angry because she didn’t want to be desperate for attention. She didn’t want to be a weak vulnerable little girl that could get her friends hurt. She wanted to be brave and strong, just like the little girl that had sat under the sorting hat and begged for Gryffindor, she wanted friends and freedom… She’d never get it here. Not with the Order and the Death Eaters around. The Order was out to suppress her and her friends and the Death Eaters… well, they just wanted the death and torture of all mudbloods, simple as that.

No.

This isn’t what she wanted to be when she’d hoped for Gryffindor… but she still couldn’t stop the hiccups in her chest or the way her hands trembled at the blood and pain that haunted her dreams. What she could do was try to plan something… anything to get out. They’d been found the first time but Hermione had a feeling it was unusual circumstances and this time they could be more cautious. Yes… they needed to get out away from the Order.

If only she could see Ron. She just wanted to be held in his arms right now.

* * *

 

Harry ran out with his broom ready for practice with Ginny who was standing there waiting with a large grin. He finally reached her and looked down to mount his broom but a small pale hand stopped him.

“We don’t need those silly things,” Marko chuckled.

* * *

 

Voldemort, Dark Lord and current shadow ruler of Great Britain, was annoyed. Not only had his Death Eaters failed to acquire the Potter boy once he’d slipped his Order leash but now… Oh, now, there was something _else_ going on. The previous spot of the murder had been scrubbed clean before he could retrieve any of the fallen, but that didn’t mean everything else had been put to rights when he got there. The magic surrounding the small hotel had been more than expected; the attendant obliviated, an entire hallway repaired, and one room scrubbed of blood and presence. But Voldemort could taste him, the brat that wiggled from his grasp every year so far. His scent had been all over the bathroom which had been mostly untouched by magic. The strangest thing was… the boy’s magical signature was nowhere to be found.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be able to track a specific signature after a scrub but this was _Potter_ and for some reason the nuisance had been tied to him in a way that he couldn’t understand. Still, as the Department of Mysteries had shown it could prove useful if used subtly enough. So, yes, if the boy had resided in this area based on the scent, he should have also been able to feel the magic. But he couldn’t. And the scent he had picked up smelled sickly and sour as if the boy was terminally ill.

It was a conundrum he’d always had ever since the graveyard when he’d first scented the child. Harry Potter smelled terminal but nothing had ever pointed to the fact that he was sick. Even his magic, lashing and restrained as it had been seemed normal enough. In that bathroom, the scent had permeated the walls like a cloud and it almost sent the Dark Lord’s stomach roiling.

Then there were the muggles. They were the ones that gave him the most information. The sleeping filth in that hotel had been enthralled. All of them still under the command to sleep. That ability was not exactly common amongst creatures, not on that level. Only a Veela or, perhaps, a very old Vampire might be able to use such mind magicks. He would need to reach out to them, see what their council would have to say on the matter. If he was lucky, it would have been an assigned job (though he had no idea what they would want the boy for), if not… it was a rogue agent. He could still possibly track them down but it would be much more difficult.

Something was missing. Pieces that he should have but didn’t. But Voldemort was not stupid. He had learned from his mistake with the prophecy. He would not rush. No… he needed the boy to figure out what was changing. His nails tapped the arm of his throne as he watched the last of his loyal followers leave the room.

They had their new orders.

* * *

 

Seamus played keep away with the bottle while Harry smacked at his knees to make him share. With a stumble and an oomph, Paul fell backwards onto the bed, opened bottle held upright still with all the liquid safe inside.

He pounced the blonde.

* * *

 

The webs were weaved, the flies caught, wriggling against their formidable bonds and he watched with hungry black eyes. Except for one, disobedient little worm. The most important worm. The insignificant speck, born of the wretch that wronged him, kept fighting the strings tied to him. It was amusing and infuriating that he would still fight against his fate with so much vigor.

He had always relished breaking the stronger wills. With slow pressure and enough time anyone would shatter. It added a mouth watering zest to his monotonous existence. He would know after all the souls he’d broken and reformed to his liking.

Hm. Perhaps he had been too eager. Too quick with his games after so long. It had been so long since he’d had the chance… Yes… Yes, he’d have to be rather more watchful. The worm was slippery, one that required more time, more pressure…

Now to get rid of those pesky intruders on his board.

* * *

 

The castle was quiet tonight but he knew something was wrong. It’s why he couldn’t sleep. He was wandering the halls trying to pinpoint the feeling but it just kept eluding him. He glanced at the walls again wondering where he was. They looked so very familiar but at the same time… they were so very _wrong_.

He felt almost… trapped. Like he was stuck in a cage too small for him and there was something on the outside he needed to find. The very core of his being was pushing and pulling him, trying to spur him into going where the call was originating from. But something else didn’t want him to leave. It felt warm and familiar… overbearingly stifling.

He stepped forward hesitantly, wanting to trust his magic. Needing to trust it. To escape the chains.

…

…

But it was so nice here. Would it really be so bad to leave his friends? He started towards the large gilded portrait, ignoring the sharp sting of his magic against his cheeks. Ron was shoving Ginny with a smile while the twins secretly leaned over him from behind. Hermione was standing slightly off to the side, beckoning him over with a silly little grin.

His lips twitched upwards and he took another step before he stopped with a wince. A violent cough shook his frame, blood flecking onto his lips, the iron scent smelling so very very familiar. He glanced back up at the portrait again, regarding his friends solemn faces. He didn’t want to leave them.

Another step and another body wracking cough, more blood, and more pain.

He couldn’t lose his chosen family.

…

...Not again…

…

With tears in his eyes, he took a few steps back sucking in much needed oxygen as the pain faded near instantly. He could feel his magic again, tugging at him. He hadn’t even noticed it gone which was slightly terrifying.

Another step back and his friends were calling out for him now, panic suffusing their voices as they watched him retreat, unable to leave the portrait to pursue him. But he felt so much better now and he could hear something else as well. Hooting laughter in painfully familiar voices, ones so dear he could almost taste their names on the tip of his tongue. They were calling for him. Showing him the way back home.

His green eyes regarded the portrait again.

He _knew_ them. _Loved_ them. Could he leave them for something he couldn’t even remember? Maybe it was good, maybe it was bad… but so was the time now. It had its ups and down but he at least knew it.

His magic swirled insistently around him carrying laughter and sweet murmurs that tugged on his heartstrings.

He sucked in a sharp breath in indecision.

_Don’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGoDon’tGo_

He cried out clutching his head stumbling back into the stone walls. Instead of cooling relief, the stones were heated, sizzling against his back with a hiss and the smell of pork. With a yelp he leapt forward, tears in his eyes, as he whipped around to stare at the wall in shock. Instead, of the stone he was faced with a growling dragon, spikes lining her face and back, ridges scales protecting her very skin. A growling snarl tore from her throat as she lunged forward teeth bared, mouth gaping.

_ComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBackComeBack_

With a shrill scream he turned and ran to his friends ignoring the breath leaving his lungs and ache of his body turning to sharp daggers. They were beckoning him from the portrait, panic stricken eyes glancing behind him every now and then. He did not want to look, the heat searing into him told him everything he wanted to know.

Just before the portrait he stopped, hand raised, inched from the canvas. It was quiet again, except for the sound of clinking, soft but heavy. Wide green eyes stared at the rusted iron cuff now on his wrist. Chains dangled down to the ground, links hanging too close to the floor. He had the feeling if they ever touched…

He looked at his friends again, eyes wide. They were smiling at him; gentle and caring Hermione, mischievous Fred and George, strong and welcoming Ron, beautiful and kind Ginny.

_But..._

_The chains were dangling them like puppets._

Suddenly, he could feel the weight around his neck. The heavy iron shrinking and choking him, melding to his skin, just as it had his friends’ necks.

No. No No! He didn’t want this! He only wanted them safe! He wanted all of them safe!

He couldn’t breathe! The coughing was back, blood dripping from his lips with no stop. He needed to breathe! Why was this happening to him? Air! He needed air!

_It’s okay. I’m here. Hush… hush…_

He backed away from the picture with difficulty. It was as if his legs were trapped in mud, weighed down beyond all movement. But… cool hands were there, guiding him, pushing him. He stumbled, falling to his arse when he finally reached the point he was before. The iron was still there, heavy enough to bow his head, and he could see his friends still staring, still _smiling and hanging_ _._ He wanted to go to them so badly but it hurt! _They hurt!_

He turned to the other hallway, the smell of iron burning his nose and the tang settling on his tongue. It dripped from the ceiling, black and viscous, casting the entire length in darkness. He shivered just looking at it.

_We miss you. We miss you._

The voices were soft, soothing, nothing like the discordant screaming of his friends. But still he was afraid. He knew nothing of that path and it would mean leaving his friends to ~~_the puppet master_ ~~ suffering. Maybe the other path could help him with his friends but he couldn’t be sure.

His hands came up to clench at his neck, trying futilely to pull the metal from his skin.

He didn’t know what to do…

Which path to take…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE END! Of part 2 anyway!
> 
> So if you enjoy reading this story and want more I really need your guy's help, okay? Which way should Harry choose? Both paths have pros and cons but I can honestly do either one. So, guys? Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thank you all to my loyal readers, even if you never comment I still appreciate you guys!!


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